Just Like Me
by Sinner Cho Gonou
Summary: The differences in a girl accent the differences of others and brings out their true thoughts. A girl from somewhere else is nothing like the others, and as they look at her, they notice how many changes they've been through. a BIT of HGRW
1. Diagon Ally

Not my first fic, but my first HP one. A plot bunny with particularly sharp fangs bit me for this. It bit me really hard. (ouch_) 'And now, the kitchen proudly presents: your dinner.' _(Beauty and the Beast.)

Disclaimer: :::Bows::: These characters and places are the property of the honourable JKR. Sabra and this storyline, however, are mine.

Snow blanketed the small village, covering roofs and walkways. Behind a cottage, a man swung a hatchet, cutting firewood. A mother and daughter hung ornaments on a large tree, while a man lifted a boy up to set the star on top. A few people were shovelling sidewalks, but most could be seen through their windows, sitting in front of orange fires, drinking coco.

Sabra Levi pressed her nose against the glass window of the store, her breath fogging up the clear pane in front of her. Above her, a sign swung merrily, proclaiming: 'Thimble Christmas Shop. Holidays all year round.'

She shook her head at the small moving figures, enchanted to act as real ones would. '_Meshuggah_' she thought rolling her eyes. 'People thinking its Christmas in July.'

Sabra turned around to face the street again as she tugged the rumpled cotton skirt straight. She waved to a short, plump woman who was beckoning furiously, and started across the street, clutching her bundle against her chest.

She reached down to pick up her skirt and caught her foot on the curb. Lurching forward, she fell to the ground, but was cushioned by something. Looking down she saw two pairs of dazed eyes peering up at her.

Scrambling off of them, she reached down and took hold of their hands. A tall redheaded boy and a skinny girl came carefully up. "_Slichah_! _Slichah_! I'm so sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going."

Standing on the sidewalk besides them was a tall black haired boy; one of the only people on the street, other then her, not wearing robes. They were, she noticed, draped over one shoulder. He was laughing wildly, reaching down to brush off the back of the other boy's robes.

"I suppose you think it's funny," the girl said fiercely. "You're not the one who just got pinned under Ron."

"I am very sorry," Sabra repeated. She knelt down again, reaching for the books which had fallen out of her arms when she fell. A white hand came into view, crossing with her own olive-gold one, picking up the last view books. It was the black haired boy, who handed them to her, then stood up and held a hand out to her.

She took it; straightening out of the crouch, she unsteadily stood up. "I'm so sorry," she said again, pushing her wire-rimmed glasses back up her nose.

"I know, I know, you said that already." He shook his head. "They're not permanently damaged," he turned around. "Right guys?"

"Speak for yourself," The redhead grumbled. "Mum just got me these robes and they're already torn." He displayed a gash down the left sleeve where the cloth had caught on something.

Sabra hesitantly came over. "May I?"

He nodded, slightly confused.

"_Vestitus Reparo_!" The cloth pulled together, black threads appearing to sew it neatly up. In a moment, all that was left was a long but neat seam where the rip was.

Ron held the sleeve up to his face, peering closely at where the rip was. "Not bad," he said. "Hey, 'Mione. You oughta remember that one."

"I know it," she said, rolling her eyes. "And I think it's you who needs to remember it."

The other boy shook his head. "Oh, cut it out you two."

Sabra looked behind the bickering pair to the woman who stood behind them. She was looking pointedly at Sabra and tapping her foot.

Sabra smiled hesitantly at the three others. "Umm…I need to go."

"Okay," the black haired boy said. "Oh by the way," he added, sticking out his hand. "I'm Harry Potter; these are my friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

She extracted one hand from her pile of books and reached out to shake his hand. "Nice to meet'cha. I'm Sabra. Sabra Levi"

Harry Seemed confused for a moment, as if he was waiting for something else, but took his hand back after shaking hers, and turned back to the other two.

Sabra stepped over to her mother with an apologetic look on her face. "Sorry _Ima_. I got…sorta…distracted. These crazy people think its Christmas in the summer."

"Crazy is as crazy does," Mrs. Levi said shrugging. "Come on. We're almost done shopping." She set her bundles on a nearby table and ticked them off as she read the school list. "Robes, we have; a cauldron, gloves, school books, all in English….Hmm. All we need now is a new wand.

Sabra grimaced. Her father had broken the last one when he sat on it the other week. He insisted it was the chair's fault for not warning him.

"The man in the bar said that there's a wand shop somewhere along here. It should be close."

They wandered along for a while more until Sabra tugged her mother's sleeve, pointing to a sign dangling across the street.

'Olivander's wands-makers of fine wands since 382 BC'

They crossed the street, carefully avoiding collision with the many people, and opened the small glass door.

The two stepped inside the shop, and stood still for a moment, dazed by the sudden silence after the activity of the ally.

Sabra carefully stepped forward and gently hit the bell on the desk. She heard nothing, but in a moment an old wizened man appeared before them. He took hold on her hand and pulled her over to an open area beside the desk. He motioned for Mrs. Levi to sit down on a free chair; one of the few not covered over with long, thin boxes.

"Come, come," he said. "You want a wand, right?"

Before Sabra could nod, he had disappeared into the shelves and stacks of white boxes.

He returned in a moment with a handful of boxes and set them down on the desk. "Am I correct in assuming that you are from the Middle East?"

She nodded again. "Israel."

"Try this wand. Eight and half inches, willow, dragon heartstring core."

Sabra delicately took it and raised her arm to wave, but stopped in midair. "Wait a second; why don't you have to take my measurements? When I got my first wand, the woman spent forever measuring me."

Mr. Olivander, for that's who it was, smiled slightly, and flourished a piece of parchment. "Thankfully, I had your last measurements forwarded to me, so you need not be measured again."

"Oh." Sabra raised the wand again and brought it swishing down. The parchment Mr. Olivander was holding burst suddenly and violently into flame.

"Not that one," she said sheepishly.

"I think not," he agreed. He brought out another one, this one awfully large, and handed it carefully to her. "Twelve inches, ash, unicorn tail hair core."

Sabra grasped it firmly and gave it a flourish. The glass on a picture across the room melted into a blob and ran out onto the floor."

"No way." She quickly handed it back to Mr. Olivander, who took it with a faint smile.

"Nine inches, oak sapling, phoenix feather core."

Sabra took this one with a sigh and waved it through the air. A row of boxes turned a fierce shade of violet; Mrs. Levi quickly waved her own wand, restoring them to their original colour."

"Hmm." Mr. Olivander replaced each wand to its box and set them on a shelf. "Israel, you said?" Once again, he didn't wait for the nod as he reached under the desk and brought out a black box. "I got this in a few years ago; try it." He opened the box and took out the smallest wand Sabra had ever seen. "Six and a half inches, olive wood, sphinx hair core. Sounds perfect for you."

Sabra took it and carefully waved it. A familiar glow lit up the wand as silver and gold sparkles shot out the end.

"Yes, yes. _Tov_."

A few minutes later, they exited the shop, having paid and thanked the kind old man. Sabra stuck the wand in the cord at her waist and turned to her mother grinning. "Well that didn't take too long. The first time I must have tried about a hundred; I like Mr. Olivander's better."

Her mother nodded. "Yes I believe you're right," her mother said.

"So, _Ima_. What's next?"

"Well, I still need to get you a present. Your _Aba_ got you your chamsa necklace, but I need to get you something."

Sabra briefly touched the charm that hung around her neck; her father had gotten it for her as a goodbye gift. She smiled at her mother. "Well you know I'm always up for presents!"

Mrs. Levi took her hand and led her across the street to a small shop squeezed in next to a large Quidditch supply shop. A large black raven perched on top of a sign stating: 'Hakuryuu's Pets.'

"A pet! Really? Oh, wow!"

Mrs. Levi smiled as she pulled her daughter inside the shop.

The walls were lined with cages filled with mice, rats, cats, ferrets, birds, though not any owls, turtles and a few toads. Behind the counter, a young man sat on a tall stool, peering down at the book he held. He reached up and fiddled with the monocle in his right eye, then reached down and turned the page.

Sabra cleared her throat, but he didn't hear her. She was about to go over and tap him on the shoulder when she heard a quiet 'Kyuu!' and a small white head peeked around the edge of a box.

"Hello," she said softly.

The head pulled back, then poked out again. A small white dragon followed it; smaller then a normal dragon, it was big enough to fly up to the man and land on his left shoulder

He absently petted it, but it leaned forward and bit his ear, below the two cuffs that adorned it.

"Hakuryuu!" he cried, dropping the book. "What the--!" Then he noticed Sabra and her mother. "Oh dear, I'm very sorry; I was reading and…well…"

Sabra grinned. "_Biseder_, don't worry. I can relate."

He grinned and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, what can I do for you?"

"I'm getting her a pet for school," Mrs. Levi said. "What do you recommend?"

"For school, eh? Well I don't have any owls here; you may have noticed.  
"I don't want an owl," Sabra said. "I want something cuddly."

The man grinned again. "Cuddly? I have rats; you might not think it but most aren't as bad as they seem. They're intelligent and clean, and actually very cute. Hakuryuu come back here!"

The dragon had flown to a cage full of brown rats and was sniffing them without much interest.

"Why did you name the shop after Hakuryuu? I mean, he's a pet too, isn't he?"

The man laughed. "Well I think 'Cho's Pets' sounds a little foolish, don't you think?"

"Your name is Cho?"

"No, that's my last name. I am Cho Hakkai."

"I though you said your last name was Cho." Sabra scrunched up her face in confusion.

"It is. I'm from Japan, and the names are backwards here."

"Everything's backwards here," Sabra muttered.

Hakkai heard her and laughed. "And where are you from?"

"Israel."

Mrs. Levi cleared her throat. "Sabra? Pet?"

"Oh, oh yeah! Umm…I'm not sure I want a rat."

Hakkai nodded. "Okay, then how about a cat? I only have one right now, but I can get more."

Sabra widened her eyes. "A kitten?" He nodded. "Ooh! Lemme see!"

He reached below the counter and took out a small bundle of black fur. The kitten raised its head and yawned, sticking out its tongue.

"I want it! Oh, he's so cute! Kawai'i!"

"You know Japanese?" Hakkai asked. "I'm impressed."

"Not much. I really should be working on my English, but Japanese is so fun." Then, "_Ima_, can I have it, please?"

"First of all, you can't keep saying 'it'." She looked up at Hakkai with a question in her eyes.

"This little fellow is a he. He came in just a week ago and is only about two months old."

"Oh. So can I have him? _B'vakashah_?"

Mrs. Levi sighed. "I really don't see why not, though I warn you, a rat is easier."

"Yeah! _Toda_, _Ima_!" She reached over the counter and picked up the small creature. "Oh I love him! I'm going to name him Zion!"

Hakkai laughed again and took out a large wicker cage. "Here, put him in this, just until you get to school. It shouldn't be starting to far away, and you don't want him to get used to a home other then school.

"Okay. _Toda rabah._"

They left the shop with Mrs. Levi carrying the packages and Sabra with the cat in her arms and her wand at her waist.

They stopped at an ice-cream parlour and sat at one of the outdoor tables. A busy young witch stopped at their table and took their order as the kitten explored the table.

"Oh _Ima_, he's really mine?"

Her mother nodded, smiling at the pleased look on her daughter's face. 'It was worth it,' she decided, watching Sabra contentedly. 'It was hard, but if I had the choice, I'd adopt her again.

Suddenly the kitten stood up, sniffed the air a few times, and launched himself at Sabra. She squeaked as he clawed his way up her sweater and onto her shoulder. When he stuck his nose in her ear, she laughed, startled. The kitten turned around a few times, then settled down, purring loudly.

"Sabra?" Mrs. Levi asked as their ice-cream arrived.

"Hmm?" Sabra petted the cat with one hand and picked up her spoon and dug into the coffee flavoured ice-cream with the other.

"What are you going to name him? I mean, we can't just call him 'cat,' now can we?"

"I already told you. His name is Zion."

"So you did," her mother said slowly. "So you did." There was a pause in which Sabra played happily with Zion and her mother watched her, chin in hands.

"Hey," said Sabra, breaking the silence. "Let's go home. _Aba_ hasn't seen Zion yet."

They stood up and walked down Daigon Ally, Mrs. Levi carrying the packages again and Sabra with Zion perched on her shoulder, watching the passing crowds with his wide amber eyes. He batted at a lank of her curly brown hair, sweeping it off his seat.

As they strolled along, Sabra noticed the shops bordering the road. Many looked like any muggle shop, but some seemed more exotic, even dangerous.

'Scary Sweets'

'Gandalf's Gadgets'

'The Magical Thrift,' old and reusable magical items

'Cricket Café' Food for the witch or wizard with exotic tastes

'Baggin's Books'

'Poison Pieces' at this shop, Sabra noticed a sickly yellow glow emanating from the clouded up windows. She quickly walked by, trying to ignore the ratty old witch drinking out of a vial as she left the building.

When they reached The Leaky Cauldron, they walked right through the main room and through a small side door most people didn't notice. Inside was a room entirely filled with fireplaces.

Mrs. Levi dug in her pockets and took out a small, brown, leather bag bulging with its contents. Sabra took out her new wand and pointed it at the largest of the hearths, then quickly spoke the charm to summon fire.

Orange flames crackled to life, brightening the dusty room. Reaching into the pouch her mother held, she took out a pinch of toxic green powder and tossed it into the fire; it immediately turned a strong emerald green.

She took Zion off her shoulder, stepped into the fire and said clearly, "_Bayit_ Levi!" At the last moment she remembered to yank her glasses off her face and clench them tightly in her fist.

Sabra felt herself being spun around incredibly fast; she cracked open one eye but quickly shut it after seeing the green flames whip around her and the multiple glances into passing grates. She clutched Zion tightly to her chest; he mewed protesting, but didn't struggle.

As the wind raged against her face, she zoomed down the floo network, her short hair streaming out behind her. After a few moments, she began slowing down; the wind lessened and as she cracked open an eye, the streaks became more recognizable as passing hearths. Slower they passed, until Sabra could have looked through each one and seen exactly what was going on. Two more coloured squares passed her vision before she stopped altogether and lurched through a brownstone fireplace.

Sabra looked up from the floor, dazed, before a tall man came over to her and quickly ushered him out of the way. She blinked a few times, regaining her balance, before her father let her go and strode back to the hearth, catching Mrs. Levi as she fell out, burdened with all the packages.

Zion meowed in her ear and she jumped, having forgotten about the new pet pressed against her. As he was sitting on her shoulder once more, she supposed he had wiggled free and climbed up.

Sabra slid her black spectacles back on her face, and the blue-theme living room spun into focus. She collapsed on the largest, fluffiest couch, scratching Zion behind the ears.

"I can't see anything without my glasses," she grumbled.

"So," said Mr. Levi. "What on earth could you have gotten that needs this many packages?" His brown eyes twinkled good-naturedly as he inspected the closed bundles. He tugged at the securing twine, freeing its contents. Looking over them, he grinned.

Sabra smiled, content, as Zion purred in her ear. She yawned behind her hand, blinking sleepily.

"I think we're all tired," her mother said. "Time for bed." She raised her wand and all the candles blew out.

Sabra stood slowly up and raised her arms in a stretch, careful not to dislodge Zion. She bent down to pick up the bundle containing her school clothes, but her mother stopped her.

"I'll take them," she said. "I'll iron them and put your name on them."

Sabra smiled sleepily. "Mmkay _Ima_. Me'n Zion'll go to bed now. _Lila tov_."

"_Lila tov_," her mother echoed.

She slowly trudged over to the stairs and wearily climbed them. Walking down the short hall, she opened her bedroom door and went in.

As she undressed, Zion sat on her pillow, solemnly her with his large amber eyes. Sabra pulled a loose thread from her curtain and dangled it above his head; he meowed and batted at it. She pulled it higher, just out of his reach and he jumped for it. Catching it, he rolled around on the bed, biting playfully at it.

Picking him up, Sabra climbed into her bed and pulled the coverlet up to her chin. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt Zion climb onto her chest and begin to loudly purr.


	2. Trainly happenings

Just to tell people, this might seem like a HPOC, but it's not. Harry is kinda…odd around girls he doesn't know well. At least that's how I've seen it. Also we'll find something out about Sabra that explains some boy's behaviour around her. It's mostly from her point of view, so anything she doesn't realize, you won't. At least, not until someone brings it up.

Disclaimer: :::Bows.::: The honourable JKR owns these characters and places; I reserve Sabra and this storyline for myself.

Sabra trotted down the platform, barely managing to avoid bumping people as she steered her cart towards the track. She and her mother reached the sign stating 'Platform 9,' right next to the 'Platform 10' one. She looked at her mother who shrugged, just as baffled as she.

Sabra walked up to the station guard; he was standing stiffly at attention. She stood in front of him for a moment until his eyes flickered over to her. "Yes?" he barked.

"Umm… Do you know where I can find Platform 9 ¾ ?"

"No!" He glowered down at her. "And you're the fifth person to ask me that today! This happens every year; I'm of the opinion that you fools are getting duped by someone very rich right now." And with that, he turned away from her and stood at attention once more.

Sabra slowly walked back to Mrs. Levi, shrugging her shoulders. They looked at each other for a moment unsure of what to do, when they heard the low-pitched croak of a toad and someone muttering, "Muggles; look at all the muggles. They're everywhere!"

Looking in the direction it had come from, they saw an old woman with a very odd hat pushing a cart filled with trunks and bags. Behind her, a chubby boy trotted after her, trying to keep hold on a toad struggling madly for release.

"Er, _Ima_? Is it just me, or does that woman have a bird on her hat?"

"Unless it's me too, I think you're right."

Judging by the looks of the muggles around the pair, it was not just them. A large stuffed vulture was perched on the woman's hat, seeming to glare at everyone around it.

Sabra watched them closely until they reached the barrier, wonder what they would do. The woman pushed the boy in front of her and he walked over to the barrier. Pushing his arms to the brick wall, he seemed to melt in.

Sabra's eyes opened in understanding; she walked over to the barrier, watching in comprehension as the woman went through as well. She poked a finger experimentally at the brick and nodded satisfactorily.

Taking hold of her cart, she pushed it carefully at the wall, noting with interest as a muggle bumped up against the wall with no sign of sinking in.

"Maybe the spark of magic in the witch or wizard is what fuels the barrier's effect," she mused over it as the tip her cart sunk in.

She motioned her mother over and carefully pushed the cart farther. Her mother came and linked arms with her as they quickly walked in.

For a moment, all she could see was blackness, even with her eyes wide open, then she flinched as light poured in. She blinked for a moment, getting her eyesight back, then widened her eyes.

There was a humongous platform with the sign 'Platform 9¾' hanging above it. Children packed the place, swarming into the train and giving tearful goodbyes.

"Impressive," her mother whispered in her ear. "But are all these kids going to fit?"

Sabra laughed as her mother beckoned to a porter and gave him the trunk along with a silver sickle. He nodded courteously to her and took it, carefully stowing it in the baggage car while they watched.

"Do you have your bag?" Mrs. Levi asked. "The one with your robes…"

"And my books and my quill, I know, I have them. I did go to school before, remember? I'm sixteen!"

"Yes, I know, just never so far away. Before, _Savta_ Shoshannah lived a broom flight away from you."

"Oh, _Ima_! That reminds me; did you talk to _Hamoreh_ Dumbledore about the food? You said you would."

"And I did." She shook her head mockingly. "It is a curse that children never believe you."

Sabra rolled her eyes, pulling her mother into a hug. "I have to go; see, all the children are getting on."

Her mother hugged her back, sniffling a bit. "I'll send letters with Gadó l. Just write back."

"I will _Ima_. _Litraot._" She hugged her again, kissing her on the cheek. Then she grabbed her bag and ran to the train; turning around, her mother waved.

"_Shalom_ Sabra! _Litraot_!"

Sabra turned back around and headed into the train while Zion batted at yet another strand of hair. Walking down the corridor, she peered in through the first compartment door, looking for a place to sit.

In the first one, four girls sat together, cases of magical make-up floating between them. They giggled, looking in mirrors and fluffing their hair.

In the second, two boys and two girls were leaning in, whispering excitedly and holding cards with moving pictures on them. One of the girls had a chocolate ring around her mouth and the other pointed it out, laughing as a boy handed her a handkerchief.

When Sabra looked in the third door, she saw three boys lounging on one bench, their feet propped up on the other. They looked slightly nasty, and she told herself she could easily come back if all the others were full.

Sabra passed through this car, the rest of them filled, and into the next. Looking in the third door, she saw three people, a girl and two boys, laughing friendlily and talking. Looking closer, she saw it was the three from Diagon Ally! She was about to open the door when the red-head, 'no Ron,' she corrected herself, said something quietly. Harry and Hermione, she remembered, gasped, and Hermione quickly pulled out her wand and sent purple fire at the door; Zion hissed at it and unsheathed his claws. It disappeared, but now the scene inside was now dimmer, and mechanical looking, and Sabra was willing to bet that any noise she heard would be faked as well.

She turned dejectedly around and walked back the way she came, heading for those boys' compartment. As she got close, the train gave a lurch, and she pitched forward; before hitting the ground, a pair of arms encircled her and quickly pulled her up. She looked up into a pair of light grey eyes as her catcher held onto her arm until she was steady.

A blond boy, slightly taller then she was, gently held her arm as she shook her head to clear her eyes.

"I'm very sorry," she said blushing brightly. "The train, and it moved, it surpr¾ ."

He nodded, smiling at her. "Do you have somewhere to sit?" He asked, looking below her face, perhaps at the necklace that was revealed by her collar.

She shook her head, blushing even more furiously, bright enough to show up on her olive-gold skin. Now he _knew _she was new here; even though he obviously didn't recognize her, it hadn't showed that she had no friends. Now he would walk off, back to the two boys he was sitting with. Zion, as if sensing her feelings, stuck his nose in her ear and meowed softly.

The boy gave a slightly sarcastic bow, gesturing to the door she was in front of. "Then would you like to sit with me and my two friends? I'm sure we can make room for you."

Sabra raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "Sure." Then as he opened the door, "oh, and I'm Sabra. Sabra Levi."

He smiled smoothly at her and held open the door. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Draco Malfoy. These are my companions Crabbe and Goyle."

She grinned, relieved that she had found a friend, even here in this cold country.

Sabra sat herself on the bench across from the boys and opened her bag, pulling out a book. Zion meowed again and settled down, nestling himself under her ear and twitching his tail under her chin.

She looked nervously at the boys who seemed to have relaxed and even fallen asleep; they had their eyes closed gently. She frowned in puzzlement; they had gone from awake to asleep in a matter of moments. Shrugging, she opened her book and began to read.

"Well I guess he's better then that Michel Corner bloke, but really!" Ron was saying. "Dean Thomas? C'mon!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's antics. "Okay," she said. "Enough with that; I think the train's going to start. Harry and I have been stuck with muggles all summer; tell us what's going on with the Order!"

"Well," Ron looked nervously around then leaned in. "Dad says Dumbledore reckons it'll be this year. You know, the final battle. He says You-Know-Who has waited for sixteen years and now he's discovered; he needs to make a move before Fudge realizes what's up and listens to Dumbledore."

Harry and Hermione gasped. "What?!" Hermione asked loudly.

Harry bit his lip, astonished even though he already knew what was coming.

"Wait a second," Hermione said. "Someone could be listening."

She muttered something under her breath and shot a stream of lilac fire at the door. It quickly vanished, but Harry saw something flicker at the edge, a splash of red. He glanced at Ron to see if he had noticed it, but he was busy gaping at Hermione.

"Was that a level _seven _concealment charm?"

Hermione nodded. "From the second I place the spell, people outside can only see what we've been doing for the past five minutes, fed in a loop. That's what they hear as well."

"But before that, even seconds before, they could still hear?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Well, yes. Why?"

Harry stood up; he was _sure _he had seen someone at the door. "I'll be right back," he said. "I think someone was listening."

He stood up and walked to the door, leaving Hermione and Ron gaping behind him.

Once in the corridor, he turned around and looked at the door; to any unsuspecting viewer, it would seem that all three of them were still inside chatting happily about friendly topics.

He turned to the side that the figure had headed and walked down, peering in all the compartment and looking at familiar faces. Ginny, Neville, Lee Jordan and Luna sat together in one; since the battle people had been more accepting towards her. In the next was a nervous group of first years, they sat stiffly and quietly and it looked like none of them had moved since they got on the train. In the third were Lavender and Parvati and two of their friends, giggling and making themselves up.

Harry stopped before looking in the next compartment; this was the one in which Draco, Crabbe and Goyle sat. He peered carefully in and saw the three boys sitting on one bench and a girl wearing a red blouse sitting on the other.

Harry did a double-take and looked again; it was that girl from Diagon Ally, the one who had knocked Ron and Hermione down! 'What was her name again?' he wondered, then remembered. 'Oh yeah, Sabra; that was it.'

He glanced in again and saw the three boys apparently asleep, but someone familiar with them could spot the cracks under their eyelids and the malicious grin they were struggling to hide.

Sabra was reading quietly on the other side, a bag draped over one shoulder while a small black kitten dozed on the other. She had her ankles loosely crossed and her hair was pulled back with a few strands tickling her nose. She pursed her lips and blew at one with annoyance; looking up to brush it away, she spotted Harry.

Her eyes widened with shock and recognition, and Draco's head snapped up to see who she was looking at. He saw Harry standing at the door and his eyes narrowed; striding to the door he threw it open.

"What do _you_ want, Potter?" he hissed. "I thought we made it clear that we were sitting here. Besides, we've already got someone filling that seat; don't we, Sabra?"

The girl in question quailed under their joined glares. Trying not to show her nervousness, she carefully placed her book back in her bag and looked politely at Harry. "May I enquire as to the nature of the business that brought you here, Harry?" she asked sweetly.

Draco glared harder at Harry and asked him again, "what are you doing here?"

Harry glanced at Sabra, then back at Draco. "I was actually going offer to let Sabra sit with us, but now I see she's comfortable here, so I'll just go." He turned back around and stepped out the door, ready to go.

"Wait!" A voice called after him. "I'll come! They can have their compartment back!"

Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Sabra attempting to move forward with Draco holding onto one of her arms and Crabbe getting up to hold the other. They both got their wands out at the same time and pointed it at the two holding her.

"_Petrificus_ _Totalus_!" The boys let go of her, arms and legs shooting together as they fell to the ground, stiff as boards; Goyle was dispatched of just as efficiently.

They stood for a moment, wands out and glaring, before Sabra carefully

stuck her wand back in her waistband and bit her lip sheepishly. "Er, I shouldn't have done that." She looked down, her face red, but snapped back up when she saw the three boys lying on the floor.

Harry put his own wand away and grinned. "Yes you should've. Draco's a git, he deserves it."

Sabra lifted her foot to step over Draco, then looked down at her skirt and thought the better of it; she stepped around him and out past Harry into the corridor.

As he closed the door, she pulled her wand out again and pointed it at the door. "_Non aperio_!"

A gold cord shot out of her wand and lined the edges of the door frame; when it hit the metal it sunk in, effectively sealing it shut.

After that, she put it away again and followed Harry down the hall. He counted off doors and waved to some people inside; she walked quietly, more aware then ever that she knew no one here.

Before they reached his door, Harry stopped, and put out his arm for her to stop as well. "Two questions, Sabra. First of all, what were you doing in Malfoy's compartment in the first place?"

She scratched Zion behind the ears as he licked her ear; giggling, she pushed him away. "Sorry, what?"

"Why did you came with me? I mean, Draco wasn't mean to you before you decided to leave, was he?"

"I'm not as stupid as boys think I am. I see it when they stare."

"What? What are you talking about?"

She fiddled with the charm around her neck and muttered something, turning red again. She was thankful for the dark skin that hid most of the colour.

Harry looked at the charm around her neck, it was one he had never seen before; it looked like an upside-down hand, gold with a jewel in the middle. He gazed at it a moment, then realized in which direction he was staring. "Oh! Er…Sabra! Heh, sorry."

She grinned at his embarrassed face and shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Now, what was you're second question?"

Harry raked a hand through his hair. "I was wondering what you were doing with Malfoy and co. in the first place."

"Oh, that. When the train started I fell…" She ignored Harry as he sniggered. "Yes I know, again. I fell on Draco and he invited me to sit with him."

"One hell of a way to meet boys," a voice said from behind the door.

"Ron!" Hermione chided, sliding out with him. They came out, grinning sheepishly at the fierce look Harry gave them. "Don't even bother asking," Hermione said. "We were eavesdropping."

"Well I figured that," Harry said. Come on, let's get inside. The trolley lady's coming and I want some food."

They trouped inside and sat down, dropping bags and stuff on the seats and stepping back out with knuts and sickles ready.

A few minutes later, they all sat happily with the boys on one bench and the girls on the other; sharing candy and food and laughing as the ones they gave caused ill effect with others.

Sabra bit the tip off of a Bernie Botts Ever Flavoured Beans and grimaced.

"What did you get?" Ron asked, biting the leg off of a struggling Chocolate Frog.

She fed the bean to Zion and laughed as he took it eagerly. "Sardines."


	3. A train ride to remember

Two more chapters for school. Yippee! (Missy, I haven't been able to talk with you b/c my s/n was deleted by my parents. Wondering if you're going on the CH ski weekend…)

Disclaimer: :::Bows::: These characters and places are the property of the honourable JKR. Sabra and this storyline, however, are mine.

Half an hour after Sabra came into the compartment, they finally finished the last of the sweets. Wrappers littered the floor in front of all of them but Hermione, who had hers in a neat pile by her shoe.

"Whoa," Ron said, looking at Harry's face. "You didn't really eat all those chocolate frogs, did you?"

"You saw me, right? Of course I did." Harry grinned lazily at Sabra's face, wide eyed at the heaping pile of boxes on the floor.

She shook her head at them. "You guys are…oh, what's the word? Er…_meshuggah_?" She looked helplessly at Hermione, who smiled at her.

"I think you mean 'mental.'" she told her. "And you're right." Hermione took out her wand and pointed at the mess. "_Scourgify_!"

The rubbish on the floor disappeared with a loud 'pop,' and a flash. 

"Nice going 'mione," Ron said acerbically. "Or did you mean to vanish my quill with it?" Pig hooted supportively from his cage on the rack.

"Ooh!" Sabra jumped up and put her nose against the cage. "Who's he?!" Zion hissed at the fluttering ball of feathers and batted his paw at the bar.

"That's Pig," Ron said glumly. "He's my owl." He cracked a small smile at the bird, showing that he was more loving of it then he would show.

"Pig," Sabra repeated. "I…might be wrong…but aren't pigs big and fat? Pork, right? Chasiir?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Sabra stared at the cage a moment more, then took Zion down and sat back on the seat.

They sat in silence for a moment, then Hermione looked at her wristwatch and gasped. "Ron! We're late! We should have patrolled the corridor ten minutes ago; we're prefects, remember?"

Ron looked at his own watch and his eyes widened. "Oy! You're right!"

Hermione shrugged into her sweater and quickly zipped it up; seeing Ron fumble around looking for his own, sighed in exasperation. "Oh, don't worry about it Ron," she said. "I'll do it. You just stay here and, well…stay out of trouble." With that, she bustled out of the compartment door and slid it shut behind her, turning left, she disappeared from sight.

In the following silence, Sabra leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Are they a pair?"

Harry gaped at her. "W-what? No! Of course not!"

"Oh; okay." Sabra shrugged, careful not to dislodge Zion, and leaned back against her seat.

'Ron and Hermione?' Harry wondered. 'What gave her that idea? We're just friends, the three of us…'

Harry shook his head and looked back up at Sabra; she had settled down in the plush seat and the cat was curled up in her lap, purring loudly as she scratched behind his ears.

"He sounds like a car motor," Ron snorted, looking at the small creature. "Isn't he a bit titchy to make all that noise?"

"Car…motor…? What is a motor?"

Harry gawked at Sabra, then looked in amazement at Ron. "Hey Ron," he said. "You know about cars, and you're a pure-blood, right?"

"Well it's not that simple," Ron answered, digging in his pockets for a last sweet. "I mean, my dad is a bit…muggle obsessed, so he's got, er, had," He exchanged a grin with Harry, "a car. Most other pure bloods don't bother with any of that muggle stuff. So if Sabra's a pure blood, and has got a traditional family, she wouldn't have to know anything about cars."

Harry gave Sabra a startled glance. "You're a pure blood?" He asked.

She nodded. "Ken…er, yes. Why?" She bit her lip and looked at Ron, then back to Harry. "Is that bad here?"

Ron laughed. "Hardly. Harry's lived with muggles, so he expects all of us to know as much as he does."

"I do not!" Harry protested, grinning and shaking his head. "It's been five years; I'm used to it, trust me!"

Sabra looked at the two friends bantering, battling an obvious struggle not to collapse in fits of laughter. She reached down in her lap to find the start of the conversation, to find he wasn't there. Zion had leapt to the seat, then jumped to the floor, and was sauntering over to Ron's legs, where he rubbed his face against them and, meowing loudly, demanded to be picked up.

Ron's face tilted downward, and he looked at the floor. When he saw the small kitten swishing its tail and purring, he looked at Sabra helplessly.

"What do I do with it?" He asked, glancing at the creature with apprehensive eyes.

Sabra rolled her eyes. "He wants to be picked up," she explained patiently. "Grab him around the middle and pick him up."

Ron carefully reached down and put his hands around the cat, then lifted him, wincing as if he was made of glass. He placed him on the seat next to his legs, then quickly withdrew his hands.

The cat looked scornfully at him, then jumped into his lap and arranged himself in a neat ball. He rubbed his nose against Ron's hand and began to purr again. Ron scratched behind his ears, then smiled a bit, and started petting him whole-heartedly.

"I think Ron just got taught by a cat," Harry said, laughing into his hand.

"I did not," Ron said, affronted, then looked down at his still-moving hand petting the cat. "Oh, guess I did." He grinned sheepishly as Zion nuzzled his hand.

At this moment, Crookshanks, who had been hiding in the luggage rack, decided to make an appearance. He jumped gracefully down and sniffed the air, looking for Hermione. When he couldn't find her, he turned around and glared at Ron, still scratching Zion behind his ears. He bounded over to Ron and settled down on the seat next to him.

He sniffed carefully at Zion, who lifted a paw and batted playfully at his squashed in nose. Offended, Crookshanks stood up and padded over to the other side of the seat; licking his paws, he began to wash his flat face.

Zion jumped out of Ron's lap (Much to his dismay) and followed him to his new seat. Each time the ginger tail twitched, amber eyes followed it move for move. He crouched down, bottom in the air, and prepared to leap. Just as he pounced, olive hands grabbed him around the middle and whisked him away.

"Katul ra!" Sabra scolded, nose to nose with the kitten, unperceiving of the incredulous looks Harry and Ron were exchanging. "Katul ra."

Crookshanks lashed his tail smugly, and licked his paw. Zion, paying no attention to his reprimanding, batted happily at a hank of curly brow hair that had fallen out of the tail. Sabra sighed and swept the offending lock behind her ear. Putting Zion down, she reached behind her head and plucked the tie out, revealing curly brown hair barely long enough to be contained by a tie; it frizzed at the ends, but Sabra pulled all of it back and secured it in a messy tail.

Just as she sat back down, Hermione bustled back in; looking at her watch, she beckoned to Sabra and grabbed a small brow bag from the top shelf. "Come on Sabra," she said. "We're almost at Hogwarts and we still need to change into our robes."

"What?" Sabra asked, startled out of her brief relaxation. "Where are we going?"

"To change into our uniforms," Hermione explained patiently. "We need to put our school robes on."  
"Oh." Sabra picked her side bag off the seat where she had draped it, and stood up to follow Hermione. Just as they were walking away, Hermione stuck her head back in the compartment.

"You really should get dressed too," she informed Ron and Harry. "We get there in about ten minutes. Oh, and Ron, tell Harry what you were going to tell us before; then we'll talk later."

Sabra bit her lip guiltily as Hermione pushed her ahead of her up the train. She had interrupted their conversation; the one that had been important enough for a shielding spell on the door.

When they had reached the front of the train, Hermione slid open the third door. It looked different from the others, as it was dark wood and had glowing white letters in the centre, spelling out 'prefects' in fancy cursive. They walked through and Hermione shut the door with a snap. She dropped her bag onto the red velvet seat; motioning Sabra to do the same, she began unzipping her sweatshirt.

"Er, Hermonia?"

"Hermione." Hermione dropped her sweatshirt on the seat and slowly pulled her arms out of her shirtsleeves.

"Sorry. Hermione. Why am I here? I'm not a prefect?"

Hermione slid her shirt off and put it next to her sweatshirt. Opening her bag, she stuck her head and hands in and answered in a rather muffled voice. "Well, I really didn't think you wanted to change with the boys, but if you really want to…"

Sabra shook her head. "No. No thanks." She copied Hermione and quickly took her red blouse off, trading it for her grey school issue one, though she kept her skirt on as it was just like the uniform's only longer.

In answer to Hermione questioning look as they got dressed again, she explained. "Well, England is very cold, so my Ima asked Moreh Dumbledore if I could get longer ones. I'll get used to it soon, I expect. It's just so very cold here in the winter."

Hermione laughed, then stifled it when Sabra looked at her. "Er…Sabra? This is September; it's only early fall. Winter is still months away and it's going to get much colder."

"You must be joking me!" Sabra exclaimed.

"Kidding me."

"Mah? I mean, what?"

"You said 'joking me.' It's 'kidding me.'" Hermione slipped her robe over her clothes and pulled her long hair out from under the collar.

"Oh; okay. So…You must be kidding me!"

"Sorry, no. It does get a bit chilly, I suppose."

"A bit? But…but…there's snow! Sheleg!" Sabra shivered unconsciously as she shrugged her robes on and adjusted it to sit comfortably on her shoulders.

"Where are you from?" Hermione asked. "I know that you can't be from Britain, but I can't quite place your accent."

"My accent?" Sabra laughed. "You people are the ones with accents; I can barely understand you sometimes."

"We do not!" Hermione exclaimed. "Just tell me where you're from; it's been annoying me since Diagon Ally." In her mind she ticked off the pitiful few at school who weren't white. Cho Chang, Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson were the only ones that came to mind.

"Israel. Now is there really going to be snow? I mean, not just up in the mountains but at the school as well?"

Hermione grinned outright at the half-delighted, half-apprehensive look on Sabra's face. "Yes, snow. Feet high; big enough for snow forts and snowball fights.?

"Snow ball fights? Why would you want to fight with snow? Though I can see where it would make a good weapon…" Sabra looked down at the thick material and buttoned it up. Opening the middle button again, she was about to stick her wand in her waistband when Hermione stopped her.

"Look here," she reached forward and grabbed a fold of cloth on the right side of Sabra's robe, revealing a long, thin pocket for wand storage.

"Damn," Sabra muttered.

"What was that?" Hermione asked sweetly.

Sabra a pale shade of red under her dark skin. "Er…nothing. It's just, I'm left handed, so…"

"No worries," Hermione smiled brightly, pulling out her wand. "This I can fix; but why didn't you tell Madam Malkin that you were a lefty?"

Sabra shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't even know that it mattered on robes."

Hermione leaned forward and inspected the pocket, prodding at it with her wand. "Or course it matters; she could have put the buttons on the other side as well, but I can change all that." She stood back up and gave a critical eye to the buttons. "Spread your arms and brace yourself," she said.

Sabra obeyed and supported her legs against the plush seat behind her.

Hermione pointed her wand at Sabra's right, then whipped it across to her left, saying clearly, "motus alius lato!"

Sabra jumped as the bit of cloth that was her pocket and all the large silver-coloured buttons flew across her robe to the left side. They quivered for a moment, then anchored then selves there. She inspected both sides, and found it was impossible to tell that they had ever been on the right.

She straightened up and slipped her blouse back into her side bag; grinning at Hermione, she slipped her short wand in the pocket and gave and elegant curtsy. "Toda raba, Hermione."

"That means thank you, right?" Hermione put her own wand in her pocket and slipped her bag over her shoulder.

"Mostly, yes. When ever I don't speak in English, could you tell me? I'm trying, but your language is hard." She put her bag on, then turned to face Hermione. "Where did you learn that spell?"

"I got it from 'Advanced Spells,' post graduation version," Hermione said proudly.

"Oh. You mean this?" Sabra dug into her bag, pulled out a large green volume, and presented it to Hermione.

Hermione nodded slowly.

"I bought it after finishing my school textbooks," Sabra said, stowing the book in her bag again. "So, are we done?"

Hermione took a quick glance around the compartment and nodded again. "Come on, the train should be pulling into Hogsmeade station any second now."

They made their way back down the train to the compartment the boys were in. Hermione rapped on the door and called out to them, "Ron, Harry! Are you decent?"

"No Hermione," Ron answered good-naturedly. "Both of us are starkers in the middle of the train."

"Very funny," Hermione answered as Harry banished the opaque wall and slid open the glass door.

Sabra and Hermione stepped in to find Ron standing on a seat, stretching up to reach the rack. On top was Zion, hissing and spitting at Pig who was fluttering teasingly out of reach. The cat crouched for a moment, then sprang into midair as Ron launched after him. Zion pawed in vain at the ball of feathers, then slowly began to fall through the air next to Ron.

Hermione and Harry, with the reflexes of a DA member, grabbed their wands and pointed it at the falling pair.

"Immobilus!"

" Aresto momentum!" A third voice joined their two, calling out a spell hardly a beat after them.

Ron and Zion jerked to a stop, Zion two feet from the floor and Ron on his stomach, nose six inches from their feet.

Sabra looked at the two others, startled at their quick action. "Whoa. How did you do that so fast?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance, then shook their heads. "Just practice," Hermione said. "Now let's get them down." The other two nodded agreement.

"Er…I think two of us will hold him up and the other will cast a 'finite incantatum'," Harry decided, looking at Hermione. "Will that work?"

She nodded confirmation, then bit her lip. "Um Sabra? I think the two strongest should catch Ron, and…I'm not very. We can't use a spell to catch him…" She trailed off.

"Because the 'finite incantatum' will end it, right?" Sabra finished for her. "Don't worry, I can catch Ron with Harry."

"Alright then."

Hermione knelt and put an arm around the hanging cat as both Sabra and Harry got on their knees beside the immobile Ron. Harry put both arms under his legs and Sabra under his chest. They braced themselves as Hermione pointed her wand at the floating pair and brought it sharply down.

"Finite incantatum!"

Harry and Sabra gasped as Ron suddenly became deadweight in their arms. He yelled in surprise and thrashed around for a moment, then realized what had happened and turned over to look up at them.

He grinned sheepishly up at them, then carefully extracted his arms from being pinned by Sabra's chest. "That was stupid, wasn't it," he said awkwardly, placing his arms on the ground and nodding at Harry and Sabra to let go.

They did so, and he flopped to the ground in front of them rubbing his head. "Yeah, pretty stupid," Hermione said handing Zion to Sabra. The cat had quieted down after the scare and sat silently on the shoulder she was placed on. "Who took Pig out anyway?"

"I did," Harry said. "The cat was being quiet and Pig wanted to fly around."

Sabra shook her head at Harry. "This cat hates bird," she said, standing up and reaching her hands out to Hermione and Ron. "He's just smart enough to pretend he doesn't."

Hermione and Ron grabbed her outstretched hands in a fireman's hold and braced their feet as she deftly pulled them up. Harry looked at her from the floor with beseeching eyes while Hermione stood with her hands on hips.

"Come on," he grumbled, relenting and climbing to his feet. "I'm not the one who tried flying lessons without a broom."

"It wasn't all my fault," Ron said, holding his hands up in surrender as they all sat and Sabra put Zion in her lap; shaking his head in mock disbelief at the cat, he brushed a finger under his eye and sniffed loudly. "If that fur ball hadn't gone after Pig, I wouldn't have needed to try and stop him."

"You're the one that opened the cage in the first place mate," Harry reminded Ron.

The cat in question began to purr again, rubbing his nose against Sabra's hand and kneading her skirt below him with his claws. She carefully extracted his claws from the black wool and looked over at Harry and Ron who were leaning back against the firm seat across from her.

"This reminds me," she adjusted her glasses to sit straighter on her nose. "You never told me what a car motor was."

Hermione laughed. "A car? A car is a horseless carriage and the motor is the thing that makes it go."

"But how does that sound like Zion purring?" Sabra looked down at the cat in her lap, curled up and twitching his tail against her knee.

"The motor pushes the car with a quick series of explosions." Hermione recited a passage from one book or another that she had read. "They blend together in almost a purring sound."

"Oh."

Just as they had all gotten comfortable, Harry jumped up and pointed to the window. "Look! We're here; it's Hogwarts!"

Sabra dashed to the window and pressed her nose to the cold glass. Her breath immediately fogged it up and she impatiently wiped it away with her robe, then looked out again.

The castle loomed against the twilight sky, the sun's last rays peeking over mountains behind. All the windows, up to the tallest tower, were lit, looking like stars in a constellation over their heads. Owls swooped around the owlry, framed in light as they swooped through the open window. The lake, glittering in front of them, rippled as tentacles waved at the arriving train, then were hidden by the hundreds of large white carriages that waited by the platform.

Sabra's jaw dropped as Zion meowed in her ear, entranced by all the lights displayed in front of them.

"Oh, wow," Sabra breathed. "This is…is…" she stopped, unable to think of a fitting word.

"Beautiful?" Hermione suggested.

"Maybe awesome?" Ron asked

"How about absolutely awe-inspiring." Harry grinned at her as Hermione gently reached over and closed Sabra's mouth.

"Ze ne-edar," Sabra agreed weakly. "This is Hogwarts?"

Ron nodded. "The one and only."

"Actually," Hermione began. "Before Hogwarts was actually opened, there was a smaller--"

"Okay!" Harry and Ron shouted, then all four broke into laughter.

Thanks to Missy for reviewing. Love ya. (You know, you people can do it too…)


	4. Unexpected Allies Or: PEEVES!

The train slowly ground to a silent stop as Sabra gazed wide-eyed and amazed at the scene that unfolded in front of her. Zion butted her ear with his wet nose, startling her out of her reverie.

She turned around to find the other three busily grabbing bags and cages and armfuls of fur. She shook her head briskly and dug into her bag for the note her mother had given her that morning. She cracked the wax seal to find only two words written in green ink in the middle of the small page.

"_Luma_ _ipsa_." She turned her wand on herself and cast the spell, rolling her eyes at her mother's mysteriousness.

Nothing happened. She looked down at her wand in confusion, then shrugged and grabbed her bag.

Before Hermione opened the door, Sabra snagged a corner of her robe in her hand. "Hermione? Where am I going to go?" She wasn't a first year, but she certainly couldn't go with the other sixth years.

Harry turned to look at her, then lifted his head and laughed; Ron, looking around to find the joke, caught a glimpse of her and joined the laughter.

Sabra turned her head around, almost dislodging Zion, searching for the source of their amusement. "What's so funny?"

Hermione looked calmly at her, though her eyes seemed to be laughing. "Nothing. Just trust me; you'll know where to go once you get out there.

She raised her eyebrows, but nodded, ignoring Ron and Harry's snickers behind her. Exiting the compartment, she saw a sea of students in black robes pouring through the corridor out the doors through which she could see glimmers from lanterns on the platform.

She joined the mass and was pulled down the hall and out the door where she was suddenly confronted with a steep flight of stairs.

WHAM!

"Ow." Sabra lifted her head painfully from the wooden platform where she had landed and saw a calm but blurry Zion sitting two feet from her head, delicately licking a paw.

"_Boged_. Little traitor." She rubbed her eye roughly then paused, and groaned. "Why is this happening?"

Sabra climbed to her knees and began groping around on the wood below her, trying to find her glasses and praying that they weren't broken.

A hazy arm reached in from her left and picked up something from the ground, and offered it to her. She reached forward and took it, and sighed gratefully when she felt cool wire and smooth glass under her fingers.

Sabra slid the glasses on her face and smiled when the scene before her came into sharp focus. She turned her head to thank her helper, and screamed.

A huge man with wild hair knelt in front of her, with as surprised a look as hers on his face. He was dressed in thick brown coats and what looked like a fur belt.

"Miss Levi!" he said loudly. "It's alright!"

She stopped screaming and looked around her where a group of people were gathered around her, laughing wildly.

"W-what? Who are you?!"

He stood up slowly with a groan and reached a massive hand down to where she was kneeling. "Rubeus Hagrid. Game-keeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor."

Sabra gathered Zion in her arms and got to her feet on her own, not once taking her eyes from the giant in front of her. Once standing, she bit her lip and shifted her weight from foot to foot. The crowd dissipated, but Professor Hagrid still stood there, waiting expectantly for her too say something.

Finally, she looked down from his soft brown gaze and grinned, half-hesitantly, half-sheepishly. "_Hamoreh_ Hagrid? Could you…do you know where I'm supposed to go? I'm the new student, Sabra Levi--" She stopped, remembering that he had already identified her by name.

He grinned widely back at her. "Yeah, well I'd already be knowin' that. Yeh did tha' spell right, tha's for sure."

"Spell?" Despite her alarm of the rather large individual in front her, Sabra found herself interested.

"Yeah. Look at yer necklace; didn't yeh know?"

"_Mah_?" She reached down and grabbed the small _chamsa_ charm around her neck; bringing it up, she found bright blue light leaking through her fingers. "Oh. Spell." So that was what Ron, Harry and Hermione had been laughing about. She grinned wryly, and looked back up at Professor Hagrid, dropping her necklace.

"Can you tell me where I have to go, _Hamoreh_?"

"Now I wouldn't be knowin' what tha' means, but th' necklace is for me. You'll be followin' me now, Miss Levi."

She nodded and followed him as he turned around and lumbered back down the platform, holding his lantern high and calling out "Firs' years! Firs' years over year!"

By the time he had marched twice down the platform, a small posse of children had accumulated behind him, and as they reached the end for the last time, he turned around and counted them all.

"Forty six… forty seven… forty eigh'!" Satisfied, he grinned down at all of them. "You lot stay 'ere a sec, alrigh'? Sabra, you keep an eye on 'em."

She found herself standing a few feet away from, and a head above, the main group of children. Two girls -- one slender, with deep, auburn hair in a low tail over one shoulder, and the other with black hair left to hang loose around her shoulders -- stood by her. The chatted in low tones for a few moments while Sabra kept a nervous watch on the huddled children, then the red haired one whipped around with wide eyes toward the platform.

"Look! It's Harry Potter!"

The main body of students turned as quickly as she had toward the train. Sabra looked with them, and saw, as mentioned, just Harry, with Ron and Hermione.

"So? It's Harry, great deal."

The black haired child looked at Sabra with scornful brown eyes. "Don't you know anything? Harry Potter! The Boy Who Lived!"

Sabra gaped at the small girl in front of her. "_Mah_?! Harry? The Boy Who Lived?! You're… you're kidding me!"

"Where are you from?" A boy asked from the bunch. "He's been in this school for five years, where have you been?"

"He stopped You-Know-Who from getting the Philosopher's Stone," another girl piped in.

"He found the Chamber of Secrets, and won the Triwizard Tournament."

"Also, he lived to fight You-Know-Who last year, don't forget that!"

"And he's the best seeker Gryffindor's ever had! He's going to be captain this year, I just know it!"

Students were relating Harry's exploits as fast as they could get a word in, while Sabra stood by the two girls, slightly dazed at the news she had just learned. Harry, The Boy Who Lived? But why on earth had he been so nice to her? She had just met her, and he acted so kind, just like someone nor--.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Professor Hagrid, who had come back to the group, his long coat swinging around his ankles as he beckoned to them. "Come on, you lot."

The followed him as he led the way to the lake; as he pushed away the curtain of branches, they saw the small fleet of boats at the water's edge, floating on the glistening lake.

As they walked down the rugged path to the water, he held his lantern high to light the way and shouted out, "no more'n four to a boat!"

As Sabra and the two girls were last, they had a boat to themselves, just like Professor Hagrid. She held the boat steady as they climbed in, then lifted up the edge of her skirt and robes and hopped in.

As she sat down, Zion decided to reveal himself, and climbed out of her robe to jump up on her shoulder. He nudged his wet nose against her face, almost dislodging her glasses again, then licked her ear and cleaned it soundly before settling down again.

Hagrid raised an arm to the sky and shouted loudly, "FORWARD!" His voice echoing across the vast expanses of the lake. The boats started forward.

A meow came from under the black haired girl's robes, and she sighed and reached inside to take out a large, adult calico cat. The cat sniffed at her fingers disinterestedly, then settled down in her lap and promptly fell asleep.

"Useless little thing," she muttered, though she reached down and began scratching it behind its ears.

The other girl looked at Sabra for a moment, then at her friend, then back at Sabra. Finally she laid her head on her friends shoulder, though still looking at everything she could manage. The silence in the boat didn't seem especially hostile, but after a few moments, Sabra stopped petting Zion and turned to the girls.

Sticking her right hand out, ('Right hand,' she reminded herself) Sabra smiled pleasantly at the two eleven year old. "Hello. I'm Sabra Levi." She spoiled the effect by looking out at the waters of the lake, then screaming.

In the water, a giant, fleshy pink tentacle was rising slowly up, and waving at the cluster of boats. It swayed about in the air for a few moments, then flopped back into the water with a loud 'SPLASH!'

All the children began talking loudly and excitedly amongst themselves as Sabra put her hand over her racing heart and tried to breathe deeply. The black haired girl smiled in a satisfied sort of way, then stuck her hand out and took Sabra's, which was hanging limply off her lap.

"Mheera Stonewall," she said, and pumped Sabra's hand enthusiastically.

The red haired one took her hand a little more delicately, then shook it politely. "Allie Dougherty at your service."

Sabra smiled at the two girls before her. "Nice to meet you, Mheera and Allie." She gave a worried glance back at the lake, where the water was swirling calmly as if nothing had happened.

Mheera laughed roguishly, and Allie joined in. "You should have seen your face," she said. "It was hilarious!"

Sabra sighed, relieved. Apparently the tentacle was nothing to be afraid of. Then she looked back at Mheera. "Um…I'm sorry but…what does hilarious mean?" Her accent was thickened briefly from her scare, and she looked down at her seat, embarrassed by her ignorance.

It was Allie who answered her. "Hilarious means fantastically funny." she said, reaching over to scratch the calico cat on its tummy. It purred briefly in its sleep and rolled over, revealing itself as a she.

"Oh." She classified that in her head for later use, right next to 'You're kidding me!' "And what was that in the water?"

Allie laughed. "That was the giant squid. No one's quite sure how he got there, but he's been there as long as anyone can remember."

Sabra looked at her curiously. "As long as anyone can remember? I thought you were first years; have you been here before?"

"No." the answer came from Mheera. "My sister Raven just graduated last year. She told me about all this stuff; Allie just knows 'cause she's an awful eavesdropper."

"No, it's because I'm a good eavesdropper." There was an impish gleam in Allie's green eyes as she grinned at them and reached over to take the large cat out of Mheera's lap. "Hello Silly-Fae. Silly-Billy-Fae-Mae." She tickled her and rubbed her nose playfully in the cat's fur. "Cutie-Fae!"

Mheera made a face to Sabra, and rolled her eyes at the childish girl. "Even though Fae's my cat, all Allie's got is a scruffy bird, so she loves her."

"At least Pecan's useful," Allie shot back, still playing around with the cat. "He can deliver letters."

"Pecan?" Sabra felt as if they were speaking a language only they knew, and she could not hope to comprehend."

"Yup, Pecan. Pecan Pie. I named him that because when I first got him, he ate my slice of pie." The red haired girl giggled, then sighed. "I already miss my mum."

Sabra quickly tried to change the subject, not knowing how to comfort the small child. "Where is Pecan? He isn't here, I noticed."

"No duh." Mheera rolled her eyes again.

"Wait, what? What does that mean?"

"She was being sarcastic," Allie explained, immediately brightening up. "Pecan was on the train; the house elves probably brought him in already."

Sabra looked at her left shoulder where Zion was snoozing comfortably, and then back at Allie. "Was I supposed to leave him on the train?"

She shook her head. "Nope. You're allowed, but except in the case of caged animals, you ought to take them with you. Just, for your sake, keep him hidden during the sorting." She looked down at the lounging animal in her lap and grinned. "I dunno how Mheera's going hide her from McGonagall. I hear she has eyes in the back of her head, really!" Allie related wonder after wonder, her eyes shining with eleven year old happiness and mischievousness.

The fleet of boats reached a long curtain of ivy in the cliff and Hagrid stood in his boat to brush it aside. They floated silently through it, the cool dry tendrils brushing her face and across Zion's back, waking him. He stretched and yawned in her ear, almost falling off her shoulder.

She glanced up to Allie's lap, wondering if the two cats would get along, but the calico animal seemed to have disappeared. She looked at Mheera, but there was no trace of the answer there, aside from laugh crinkles next to her eyes and the quiver in her throat of a half-swallowed laugh.

They, along with the others, pulled up to a dark shore, covered in pebbles and a pale brown weed. The water lapped gently at the shoreline as they got out of their boats. Once they were all out, Hagrid counted then once more, and they were off.

Sabra trailed behind the group with Mheera and Allie, following Hagrid through a pitch-dark passage, the only light being Hagrid's lantern, held high above their heads as they stumbled through the rock passage. Sabra trailed her hand along the cool wall, running her fingers through cracks and pits that marred the otherwise smooth surface.

They exited the tunnel into the very shadow of the castle, and walked along the stone wall until a flight of stairs. Crowding around on the landing, Hagrid raised one huge fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door opened, the oak wood moving soundlessly on its hinges. A stern faced woman stood in the entrance way, her emerald green robes shimmering almost as much as the light off her spectacles. She had black hair pulled back in a severe bun, grey hairs just beginning to show.

Hagrid stepped back a step, then swept his hands out to her. "The firs' years Professor McGonagall."

She nodded her head regally. "Thank you Hagrid. I'll take care of them now."

Opening the door wider, she motioned them into a huge, sweeping room, with a ceiling too high to see. A cackle brought everyone's attention in that direction, to see a small man in odd clothing, floating about one hundred feet above their heads. He was holding a pile of brightly coloured balls in one hand, and in the other, a large bag of what looked like flour.

He quickly opened one arm, letting loose the balls over the heads of the students. Sabra quickly whipped out her wand from the new pocket and pointed it at the falling missiles.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" Her voice joined Professor McGonagall's to stop them. She sighed, relieved, when the balls slowed in midair, and moved to the side, where she released them and allowed them to fall harmlessly to the floor, spraying white flour all over the stone floor.

Sabra looked over to the professor, searching for some sign of approval, but all she got was a tight-lipped smile, and an almost apologetic point above her. She cringed, and closed her eyes, to late to stop the bag of flour from bursting on her head, dousing her in white powder. Zion hissed and spat at the floating figure.

"PEEVES!" Professor McGonagall hollered. "GET OUT!"

Sabra cautiously opened her eyes to find all forty eight eleven-year-olds staring at her with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, as if she was a ghost. Looking down at herself, she imagined it looked like she was one.

Pointing the short wand at herself, she rolled her eyes and muttered "_Scourgify_!" Nothing happened.

"It's enchanted," the professor told her, trying to hide a smile. "We do that so Peeves can't steal it, yet he still does."

Sabra imagined she too would have been hiding a smile had it not been her in this position. She sighed and put her wand away, then attempted to brush away as much as she could.

Mheera and Allie came forward to help, then a few more girls. Soon she had six girls brushing at her robes with her, sweeping as much flour off as possible. When her robes were practically clean, the professor cleared her throat and motioned to a small door in the wall. "If we may?"

Sabra nodded, smiling sheepishly. Professor McGonagall gave a stern glance in Zion's direction, then turned around and led the group through the door.

Sabra quickly took the still-white cat off her shoulder and absently followed the rest. She brushed Zion off thoroughly, then attempted to stuff him in the huge pocket inside her robe. This took all of ten minutes, as he definitely didn't want to be stuffed. Finally she got him in and buttoned the button, but by then the professor had already left them in the room.

"What's going on?" she whispered to Mheera.

"We're to be sorted," she whispered back. "Right about…now."

The door swung open in front of them, and now seemed to lead onto a dais on which was placed a large table with about thirty or forty teachers. Professor McGonagall stepped inside and beckoned to them.

"Form a line," she told the first years, and her, "and follow me."

They made themselves into a ragged line and followed her through the door into the biggest room Sabra had ever seen! Her old school's _Chader Ochel _could have fit twenty times in this new one!

Out on the floor, four tables were laid out horizontal to each other. They were about as long as her house, and entirely full of children who had, up until that moment, been talking and screaming their heads off.

Hundreds upon thousands of long white candles floated around the room, giving off a light brighter then ten bonfires. The arches that supported the room climbed the walls and soared off…into nothing.

The ceiling was a perfect picture of the twilight sky, with the setting sun sending few rays to light the room farther. Sabra's legs turned to jelly as she gazed upon the sight, and apparently Mheera's sister hadn't prepared them, for the two girls leaned briefly on her. She willed her legs not to collapse, and it worked. They barely made it to a line down the platform, facing out at the thousands of students who gazed up at them.

She felt very conspicuous, a head or more above the rest of the students. Seemingly, everyone else noticed that, because as soon as they were in place, the whispers began, punctuated by occasional laughter.

An old man stood at the podium in the middle. He had a snow white beard that could be tucked into his belt and bright purple robes.

White hair. Suddenly Sabra realized what the few laughs were about. She, or the girls, hadn't bothered to brush the flour out of her hair, and it was probably as white as the old man's.

Professor McGonagall walked silently forward and placed a sturdy four-legged stool in front of them, with a ratty old wizarding hat sitting on top.

She stared at the hat with apprehension, just as the rest of the school did, but theirs was with anticipation. What were they waiting for?

After a moment, a wide rip opened in the brim like a mouth, and it began to sing.

I might look like a hat to you,

And outside I may be.

But put me on your noggin,

And in your skull I'll see.

I'll look for different qualities,

The ones inside your head.

Like things in youth you used to do,

And book you may have read.

I may place you in Gryffindor,

Where are the bold and fair.

Not always truths, not always lies,

About your friends you care.

Perhaps you'll sit in Slytherin,

Wily, like your kind.

Anything to get your goal,

True powers you will find.

Next is loyal Hufflepuff,

A companion 'till the end.

Your open heart to one and all,

Helps love and friendships mend.

Last, not least, is Ravenclaw,

For knowledge is your power.

The brains, the smarts, the wisdom here,

Builds learning into towers.

These four houses, none the same,

Must unite and become one.

To save this school, our treasures deep,

Until bad times are done.

(Hey Gold Lorax, go hug a tree. The hippie movement died out, in '70. You whine about T'kun O'lam, but at the Z, your songs are on papeeeeeer!!! GASP!)

Review!


	5. Quite a Feast

__

I might look like a hat to you,

And outside I may be.

But put me on your noggin,

And in your skull I'll see.

I'll look for different qualities,

The ones inside your head.

Like things in youth you used to do,

And books you may have read.

I may place you in Gryffindor,

Where are the bold and fair.

Not always truths, not always lies,

About your friends you care.

Perhaps you'll sit in Slytherin,

Wily, like your kind.

Anything to get your goal,

True powers you will find.

Next is loyal Hufflepuff,

A companion 'till the end.

Your open heart to one and all,

Helps love and friendships mend.

Last, not least, is Ravenclaw,

For knowledge is your power.

The brains, the smarts, the wisdom here,

Builds learning into towers.

These four houses, none the same,

Must unite and become one.

To save this school, our treasures deep,

Until bad times are done.

As the entire school let out a collective breath, applause began. Everyone, from the staff up on the dais down to the scrawny second years, clapped, whistled and yelled their heads off. This continued for what seemed like hours, as the hat smiled smugly at the school.

Finally, the aged man on the podium cleared his throat softly. At the sound, the approbation quieted down slowly and students shifted back in their seats.

Sabra nudged softly in Mheera's side. "Who's he?" she whispered.

"Albus Dumbledore," the girl whispered back. "Now shush."

Sabra nodded and stood up straight. _Hamoreh_ Dumbledore gave a small smile, then began, as if he had been waiting for her.

"It's another year here at Hogwarts, and these children are our future. Though there was a calamity this summer. Israel's AkibaAcademy of Magic closed this summer due to too many students dropping out, along with schools in Russia, Japan and Egypt." He paused, seemingly to wipe a tear from his eyes, then continued. "There is, however, some good news along with the bad. A student from Akiba is entering our own fine academy. Sabra Levi will be joining our sixth years."

Sabra felt all the eyes of the school change their focus from the professor to her. A blush spread across her face and neck, overpowering the dark skin and turning her bright red. She looked helplessly down as whispers spread across the room and pointing fingers zoned in.

The professor continued, as if not noticing the action in front of him. "Now, if there is no more early news, let the sorting begin!" Applause spread across the room again, this time stopping short as Professor McGonagall unrolled a parchment and began reading in her clipped, precise voice.

"Abdury, Megan!" A short girl with pigtails walked slowly out, clearly regretting her last name, and gingerly picked the hat up. She sat on the stool and tentatively placed it on her head. There was silence for a moment, then the hat opened its mouth and yelled out "HUFFLEPUFF!" The table farthest to the right erupted into applause as Megan placed the hat back on the stool and walked eagerly down the stairs and to the table, where she was quickly seated by helping hands.

The professor continued. "Attem, Jack!" The boy on the right of Sabra trotted out and sat on the stool. The hat had barely touched his head before it shouted out "RAVENCLAW!"

Casanova, Michel ended up in Ravenclaw as well. Then McGonagall read out the next name. "Dougherty, Alison!" Allie gave Sabra's hand a quick tug, then let go. She walked slowly out to the stool and picked up the tattered black hat. Sitting on the stool, she placed the hat on her head, covering up her deep read hair. The entire room seemed to hold its breath for a moment as the hat contemplated, then it opened its rip and shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Allie slumped in the stool for a moment, then took the hat off, her face showing her obvious relief. The table second to the right burst into clapping, yelling and screaming as Allie walked down the steps to her house.

Most of the rest of the names passed Sabra in a blur, though with one boy, Evans, Mark, the sorting hat sat on his head for almost two minutes before shouting out its decision. (HUFFLEPUFF!)

Mheera was the fourth to be placed in Slytherin, and as she walked confidently down the stairs, she gave Sabra a small wave.

Finally, Sabra refocused her eyes and snapped out of her thinking. She looked around and realized that there was only one person left in line with her. "Zabini, Vincent," the professor called out.

The boy walked confidently out and placed the hat on his head. It sat for a moment, then shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" There was silence, and Sabra could see most of the school exchanging glances.

Then a boy from Slytherin, who looked much like Vincent, began clapping. Soon the Slytherin table was in applause and it spread to the rest of the school, including Gryffindor. Vincent dropped his horrified look and even began smiling a bit as he walked to his table, though he kept shooting worried glances to the boy at the Slytherin table.

Then Sabra was the only one left; standing alone on the dais, she could see all eyes on her and she nervously smoothed her skirt down.

Professor McGonagall rolled up the long list in her hand and stored it in some hidden pocket of her emerald green robes. Then, reaching into a pocket on the other side, she pulled out another list, seemingly of the same length when she unrolled it.

"Levi, Sabra." she said clearly.

At her name, the chatter rose up again. The whispering was so loud she felt she would be borne away in it. When the staring began, she wished it would. Sabra gave her skirt one last pat, and took the few steps to the stool, needing to will each foot to lift and drop.

Finally she reached the stool. She spent a few moments looking at the wood, at the fine grain and the dark legs, doing anything to avoid looking at the hat. She believed there was nothing else in her life she had ever dreaded so much.

When the grumbles of the rest of the school grew, Sabra quickly picked up the hat, sat down and placed it on her head, before her treacherous heart could order her not to. There was silence for a moment, then a loud "ACHOO!"

Giggles sounded from the listeners and Sabra realized what had happened. The flour that the poltergeist dropped on her head was still there, and it made the hat sneeze. Then she forgot all about it when a voice spoke inside her head!

"_Another one_!" It exclaimed. It was the hat. "_I know where to put you_!_ Just with all the others of your kind_!"

'My kind?' she thought nervously.

"_Yes. You're a learning mind, a think, oh! Something here! In the back of your head! Oh; well this changes everything_!"

'What? What is it?' But it refused to tell.

"_There's no changing what's in your head_. _Well with that, you'll be perfect in…_GRYFFINDOR!"

Sabra didn't expect the voice to be so loud. She squeaked and jerked backward in surprise, pulling herself into a fall. Some cool part of her brain wind-milled furiously at the air, trying to regain her balance, but instead she just fell faster.

CLUNK! She landed on the floor at the same time as the wooden stool, making the loudest sound (Other then the hat's voice) she could think of. Struggling to her feet, she pushed the large floppy hat off her eyes and carefully bent down to pick the stool up. When they saw she was alright, and not hurt, a laugh sounded from the Slytherin table. Soon the entire school, including the staff table, was laughing uproariously.

She carefully took the hat off, and with a whispered 'sorry,' placed it back on the stool. There was no way her blush could be mistaken for anything but as she climbed down the stairs.

A wriggle in her pocket proved that the fall had not gone totally unnoticed by her pet, and she prayed that Zion would hold on only a bit longer.

Reaching the still-laughing table, she walked all the way to the end, attempting to ignore the laughing students in red and gold. At the end, she found Allie barely containing her giggles.

As she lifted her robes and skirt and stepped over the bench, Allie calmed down enough to hold out her hand for balance and casually remarked as she stepped in, "Was that rehearsed or last second improvisation? Perfect fall; couldn't have done it better myself.

"Couldn't have done it at all," Sabra shot back airily, attempting to regain as much dignity as possible.

"That was brilliant!" A slightly chubby boy with black hair leaned forward across the table. "You know, I don't think in three centuries anyone's ever fallen off the sorting stool!"

"_Toda rabah_," she said sarcastically. "I just had to know that."

His face scrunched up. "What does that mean? And what language is it?"

"Oh! Sorry! I said thank you very much, and it was in Hebrew. I come from-"

"Israel, we know! But the way they're carrying on, it might as well be the moon!" A head of carrot red hair fell into her view as a hand grabbed a goblet in the middle of the table. Sabra leaned back and saw, behind the hair, a pair of twinkling blue eyes.

The girl sat back down and placed the goblet in front of her plate, along with three others. Sabra didn't ask.

"Hi," the boy across the table said, sticking his hand out to hang over the table. "I'm Neville Longbottom."

She grinned in return and shook his hand. "No need to tell you my name; I am sure that every person knows it by now."

The red-head took her hand before she could draw it back, and shook it firmly. "Ginny Weasley."

Sabra gaped at her. "Weasley!"

"Yeah. Wait, wait. Let me guess. You already met one of my brothers."

She nodded faintly. "Yes. Ron. He's the one that hangs out with Harry Potter."

"Oh, you've already met Harry then. He and Ron have been mates since the first day here. I'm wondering what's happening. You know," she said, putting one hand up to cover the side of her mouth. "Ron hasn't ever shown interest in a girl since he needed a date for the Yule Ball."

Sabra giggled along with Ginny and Allie, who sitting on the other side of her, had heard every word.

"Oh, hello!" Ginny said. "I'm glad you're finally here!"

"Finally?" Allie asked. "I don't know you…do I?"

"Oh, no! Not really. But you're mum works in the ministry and my dad said that soon there'll be a girl with red hair. Now I won't be called Red anymore!"

"Oh? Why not? Your hair hasn't changed colour, has it?"

"No, not really. But the Red thing? That's for the youngest redhead. Emilie in Ravenclaw had red hair, but she isn't Red anymore, and neither is Alessandra."

"Oh."

"You know," Neville said suddenly, and in all seriousness. "If you really don't like the red hair, I can always change it for you."

"No!" shouted Allie, Sabra and Ginny.

A boy in front of them turned around and gave them a dark look. "Shhh. Dumbledore's about to talk again."

They immediately quieted and turned their gaze to the dais, where Dumbledore was, in fact, standing at the podium again. He smiled brightly at the sea of young wizards; occasionally twitching his long nose as he waited for absolute silence.

He didn't have to wait long. Soon the only noise was the loud coughing of a Hufflepuff, but he was quickly silenced by several well-aimed spells.

"I would just like to say," he began, beaming at them. "To each and every one of you. Something you must remember tonight. Enjoy! That is all." He sat back down.

Sabra turned back around, with as much confusion on her face as most of the first years, to Ginny; about to ask what in the earth was going on, when she stopped.

The tables were laden with more food then she would have thought was possible to be held. Meats, cheeses, pastries, breads, soups and drinks. Ginny was casually placing potatoes on her plate and filling up each of the four goblets with a different kind of beverage. Pumpkin juice in one, cold tea in the next, boot rear in the third (Sabra had tried it once, but didn't enjoy being kicked by an unseen foot.) and a pale green juice in the last.

She looked at all the wonderful foods as Ginny held out a steak to her. "Pork chops, Sabra?"

Sabra shook her head. "I don't eat pork."

"What?" Neville said, pausing in his feasting. "Not eat pork! How can you do that!"

"I just don't," she said calmly, then reached into her back for a second parchment with instructions. Carefully sliding her fingernail under the wax seal, she broke it open. Inside were more words.

_Pick a meal_, it said. _But don't forget to wand it_.

Sabra shook her head as a glimmer of knowledge seeped in. Understanding what to do, she couldn't believe it was set up that way. She took her wand out of her pocket with her left hand, while carefully placing the parchment back in her side-bag.

Pointing the wand at the golden plate in front of her, she moved it in a circle and said clearly, "_Fleyshik_!"

The plate vanished and was replaced by a blue china plate with a white '_fey_' in the middle. Four or five of the meat dishes in front of her were replaced by almost identical ones, though they were in blue dishes as well; her silverware and goblet became shiny metal with blue designs on them.

Sabra grinned at the cleverness of it all. Now she could eat as well, though only from the kosher dishes. She helped herself to chicken and lamb, and found milk-less devilled eggs on a blue plate to the right of Allie.

Both redheads and Neville, along with the boy who had told them to shush stared at her in amazement.

"What was that?" Allie asked. "Raven didn't say anything about changing food!"

"Oh," Sabra said around a mouthful of squash as she poured herself some pumpkin juice. "I can't eat your food so my _em_-I mean, my mother arranged for separate food. It's not that there's anything wrong with it, I'm just Jewish.

"Isn't that the Satanic religion?" Neville asked seriously.

"Actually," Sabra said, swallowing with difficulty. "To us, you guys are the Satanists."

They stared at her, speechless.

"I was only joking!" she said. They still stared. "Joke? As in ha ha?"

"Ha ha," Ginny said weakly.

"Jews are basically like Christians, except we don't believe that Jesus Christ was the Meshia." She took a gulp from her goblet, then continued. "You have an Old Testament, right?" They nodded. "Well that is our _only_ testament. We call it the Torah."

"What does _Meshia_ mean?" Neville asked, looking at her slightly nervously.

"It is what you call the Messiah." Sabra answered. "We don't believe that Christ was the son of Hashem."

"Hashem?" Allie bit her lip in confusion, but was beginning to seem more comfortable.

Sabra pointed up. "We do not use His name in vain, so we use Hashem as a substitute. Will you pass me the cold tea?" She pointed to the pitcher, its sides beaded with condensation. Ginny nodded absently and passed it to her.

"So Jews are like Christians except you're only working out of the Old Testament?"

Sabra nodded. "I'm sure Jesus was a great man, and one of the prophets," she said, pouring herself the tea in her newly emptied goblet. "He just isn't the son of Hashem."

The stared at her for a moment more, then nodded their comprehension.

"Oh, one more thing," Sabra said, cutting up a piece of chicken. "You do realize that not one of you have eaten anything since the meal began?" They gaped soundlessly at her for a second, then turned back to their plates and began animatedly digging in.

"You know Sabra," Neville said through a mouthful of lentil stew. "With you here, there's no _way_ we're ever going to get bored.

A/N

I know this chapter is REALLY short, but I thought that was a fantastic place to end it. Missy, I'm not going on the ski trip anyway b/c no one I called was. Oh well, see you this summer. Hey people. Guess what. Missy is the ONLY person who reviewed. Cookies and recognition for all who do.

(Chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, Brownie topping, and for those who _actually say something_, I'll make it 'a la mode.') I do like reviews. It makes me feel like people are reading this, and I shouldn't quit. (Hint hint) Make me feel happy, please?

On another note: This fic is coming out faster b/c I'm doing it for school, just I happened to add a bit. So my parents were easily convinced that I can write it even though I'm not allowed on the computer.


	6. Awesome spell Sabra

Sabra cut a piece of lamb off the bone, then bit it off her fork. She washed it down with a swig of cold tea, then had a bite of oil-and-garlic string-beans. Her blue plate was loaded up with food, and tantalizing smells rose from the blue dishes in front of her as she relieved then from their contents as quickly as possible.

Neville grinned at her as he reached across the table for a plate of freshly sliced pumpernickel bread. He took two and filled them with pork and mashed potatoes as a five inch sandwich.

Ginny, next to her, rolled her eyes as she busily buttered potatoes. "You sure you can get your mouth around that?" she teased. "I know that you've got a big mouth, but that's a bit much, even for you."

He made a face at her, then opened his mouth as wide as possible and took a huge bite out of it. He chewed slowly for about a minute, then swallowed, with some difficulty. Following it up with a gulp from his goblet, he sat for a moment, then jumped.

"Who did that?" he demanded. "I _know_ I didn't put boot rear in my cup!"

Everyone was silent for a moment, then Allie giggled. Neville glared at her and she attempted to muffle it, but they kept coming out. He glared for a moment more, then slowly, his glare turned into a smile. Soon he was laughing as well, and was soon joined by Sabra, Ginny and the boy on Allie's left.

He shook his head for a moment, then stuck his hand out to Allie. "Nice to meet'cha! I'm Dennis Creevy!" He had short dirty-blond hair and a wide mouth, grinning widely at Allie, with a faint blush colouring his cheeks.

Allie shook his hand and Sabra nudged her in the ribs, giggling. Allie shook her off, then turned back to Dennis. "Alison Dougherty. What year are you?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Third."

"So he likes younger women," Ginny whispered in Sabra's ear. "I wondered if he was a eunuch for all the attention he gave girls."

Sabra laughed again, and reached for another egg, but instead saw a small bowl filled with different coloured spheres. They were about the size of a galleon, and felt smooth and hard as she picked one up.

She snapped in Neville's face, attempting to get his attention. He was busy stuffing his face full of mashed potatoes. Looking down the table, she saw blond boy giving his all to a similarly full bowl of potatoes.

Ginny giggled. "They're being boys," she said. "Neville is trying to beat Dean, but Dean holds the title. They'll definitely be busy for a while with that one. What did you want?"

Sabra showed her the mysterious food, in pink. "I was wondering what this is," she admitted.

"Oh, those." Ginny laughed. "Peppermint humbugs; why don't you try one."

"What are they made of?"

"I'm not sure, but I doubt the house elves would have set it near you if you can't eat it. I do know that there's no milk in it; Lavender's lactose intolerant, but she likes them."

Sabra decided that it made sense, and popped the sweet in her mouth.

It was hard for a moment, then her teeth crunched through the shell. Minty powder flooded her mouth for a moment, making it hard to breath. She closed her throat and breathed through her nose for a few minutes while the powder dissolved in her mouth. She then swallowed, breathed deeply, and began choking and coughing.

Ginny pounded her back and handed her goblet to her. Sabra gulped it down, and coughed one more time. She drank again, then breathed as deeply and calmly as she could.

Looking up, she found Allie, Dennis and Ginny staring at her, trying to hold in laughter. Neville's mouth was gaping open, showing half-chewed potatoes. Ginny grimaced and reached across the table to close his mouth.

Sabra stared back at them, then grinned. "That was fantastic! These are great; I love these!" She reached out and grabbed another handful of the sweets and put them on the side of her plate.

Neville's mouth dropped open again.

As she was about the pick up the pitcher of cold tea, she saw something silvery in the middle of a platter of rolls and oil. She reached out to touch it, then jerked her hand back when she felt an icy-cold mist on her hand.

Apparently her hand wasn't liked either. A whitish head rose in the middle of the table and gave her and cool glare.

Dennis grinned. "Hey Nick!"

"Who?" Sabra asked.

"That's Nearly-Headless Nick," Allie whispered in her ear. "Raven told us."

"That's 'Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington,'" the ghost said, apparently having heard. "I _do_ hate that nick-name."

Sabra took the hint. "I'm so very pleased to meet you Sir Nicholas, and I apologize for my atrocious manners. I've never seen a ghost before, though I realize that doesn't excuse me. I am Sabra Rivka Levi, the new student."

Nick rose higher in the air, and bowed to her. "Likewise on the greeting," he said. "Now I must go greet some more new Gryffindors, but I do hope to see you again." He floated slowly away, talking to every few students.

"What was that?" Allie laughed.

"My tutor taught us how to formally apologize in English. Now I'm glad he did."

"Speaking of that," Neville said. "When did you learn English? You're really good."

"In _Yisrael_, we have to learn English from third grade. I'm also working on Japanese, though it's terrible hard." Then seeing their blank looks, "Sorry, _Yisrael_ is Israel in Hebrew."

"Ah." Neville nodded his understanding, then went back to stuffing his face full of pork chops. But as his fork descended on his plate again, all the food disappeared, leaving the gold (and blue) tableware sparkling clean. They refilled with every dessert Sabra could possible imagine.

Ice-cream, pastries, Jell-O, pies, Popsicles, cakes, candies, chocolates, puddings, fruits, and crystallized honey and syrup. She gazed wide-eyed at the foods in front of her, and was glad to see the bowl of humbugs was still in front of her.

Glancing at Ginny, then Allie, both girls had mischievous grins on their faces and twinkles in their eyes. They quickly dove for the chocolate and Sabra scrambled to grab a handful of peppermints before two boys took the rest. Dennis loaded a slice of pie onto Allie's plate while Neville set upon emptying the pudding bowl.

Sabra looked and didn't see much she could have, or wanted, other then the humbugs, when a piece of blue caught her eye. Two plates sat undisturbed in front of her, one with baklava, the other had a slab of _chalva_.

She beamed happily and took a large triangular baklava smothered in honey and filled with nuts. Reaching forward to cut a slice from the _chalva_, she stopped as the others curious stares reached her.

"What's that?" Neville asked, pointing to the cream-coloured chunk.

"_Chalva_," Sabra said, cutting a thick slice and setting it on her plate next to the humbugs.

"What does it taste like?" Dennis asked cautiously. The small boy peered at it as if it would bite him at any moment.

She thought for a moment. "Sort of…dry in you mouth, but sweet. And once you chew it for a while, it turns a bit milky-ish, but still sweet. Want to try some?"

"Oh, no thanks," he said hastily. "I was just wondering."

"I will," Allie said bravely, then grinned. "Besides, there's no chocolate left, I'll trade you and give you some dark." She picked up a handful of wrapped candies and handed them to Sabra.

She unwrapped one and put it in her mouth, then broke into a wide grin. "_Shokolat_!" Breaking a piece from the chalva on her plate, she handed it to the girl. "Just taste first," she cautioned. "You might not like it."

"Yes mother. I mean…" Allie smirked. "_Ema_." then popped the sweet in her mouth. She chewed for a few moments, then swallowed.

"How is it Red?" Dennis asked, looking sceptically at the block of _chalva_ on the table.

"It's… not bad." she admitted. "Just really weird."

At those words Neville and Ginny reached out and cut themselves slices as well. They both tasted it and Neville smiled and ate more, but Ginny made a face and spit in her napkin. She shook her head, making a face. "No. I don't like that." she looked hurriedly at Sabra. "No offence Sabra, really; I just don't like it much."

Sabra laughed. "Good, more for us."

Neville and Sabra both cut themselves more slices, and in no time, finished off the slab. Neville then set to work on the ice-cream, while Sabra, more slowly, munched on her humbugs and chocolate. During a pause in the sounds of chewing and tableware clinking around, Sabra tapped Ginny on the shoulder and pointed to a quivering, clearish-red, artfully shaped mass.

"What on earth is that?"

Dennis laughed at something Allie said, and Sabra turned for a moment. When she turned back, Ginny was reaching forward to cut a piece of the stuff, and lifted it up to drop it on Sabra's plate. "Jell-O." But when she tipped it off the knife, it dropped, then stopped three inches off the blue plate. It then bounced, by itself, to the edge of the plate and hopped back onto the gold platter.

"I…guess…you can't have it," Ginny said, looking in amazement at the now inanimate Jell-O.

"Awesome spell!" Dennis and Neville said at the same time, then grinned at each other.

"Not kosher, I suppose," Sabra said.

Allie's eyes gleamed, and she reached for the scooper to the toffee flavoured ice-cream; she took a spoonful and dumped it onto the blue plate. It too stopped just above the surface, then drew itself up and hopped neatly to the side, and back onto the platter. She reached for another spoonful, but Sabra quickly grabbed her hand and took the scooper.

"_Lo_. _Lo lo lo_. I need this plate to eat off of for the rest of the year, and it had better stay kosher."

"So? If some milk gets on it, the house elves can just wash it off, right?" Neville took the spoon from Sabra's hand and dumped about half the bowl of toffee ice-cream on his plate.

She shook her head firmly. "If even a BIT of _chalav_ gets on the plate, it isn't kosher anymore. It can't even be washed with a _chalav_ plate, or an unkosher _fleyshik _plate. Thankfully, there are cleaning charms."

"What's…halav?" Dennis asked. "And fleshec?"

"_Chalav_ is milk, _fleyshik_ is meat and _parav_ is neither, like…like…" she paused, unable to find the right word, and pointed to a tray of fruits. "_Tapuz_, _vi_…_vi_…_tapuach_."

"Fruits?" Ginny suggested. "Vegetables?"

Sabra nodded. "Yes, and bread too."

"What were those things you just said?" Neville said, pausing in his attack upon the food loaded on his plate. "With the Ts."

"_Tapuz_," Sabra said, "is that," she pointed to an orange, "and _tapuach_ is that," she pointed to a sliced apple on the very top of the fruit display.

Ginny had a thoughtful look on her face, and opened her mouth to say something, when the food all disappeared, leaving the plates as clean as they were before; the sound of a loudly clearing throat startled them into facing forwards.

Professor Dumbledore was standing at the podium again, and smiled benignly at the sea of students. "Now that everyone is pleasantly full, there are a few start-of-term announcements. First of all," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "the list of forbidden items has grown quite large, thanks to a certain new business, that there is a new spell around the castle gates that will not allow any of those items in."

Ginny pumped a fist in the air, along with many kids all around the Great Hall and Sabra thought she heard a whispered word, "willow," to Neville across the table.

Dumbledore waited for the merriment to end before continuing. "Also, it should be known that the Forbidden Forest is, as its name suggests, forbidden, and any students found in it will immediately be put in detention with their head of house. The same punishment will apply to any students caught using magic in the corridors."

There were numerous hissed, "damns," across the room, and many first years scowled ferociously.

He continued. "Before we go to bed, there is a more morose matter at hand. As many of you know, at the end of last school year, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is confirmed to have risen again." The school stayed dead silent, though many wide-eyed glances were exchanged. "But what was not told, it of utmost importance. One person died that day."

Ginny and Neville gasped, and Ginny's eyes opened wide, and became suspiciously bright. Neville reached his hand across the table and Ginny, without hesitation, reached out and took it. There was a bit of a commotion farther down the table, but Sabra didn't see who it was.

Dumbledore continued, his voice grave. "A man formerly convicted of great crimes was found innocent late this summer, alas, too late. Sirius Black, the escapee from Azkaban, was killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, while he was protecting six students from this school. His killer has been brought to justice, but that will never pay for a human life. Sirius Black was found innocent of his crimes, after many trials this summer. With all recent events, please do no hesitate to take every precaution for your safely, as we have. Also, all of the teachers are entirely available if anyone has anything to talk about."

This comment seemed to be directed at the front of the Gryffindor table. Sabra craned her neck to see who it was, and was startled too see a mop of black hair lying on the table while its owner took large calming breaths. Many hands were patting his back, and giving comfort.

She shook her head and turned back to Dumbledore.

"That is the bad news," he said. "And the good new is that we're going to bed in a few moments. Let us just sing the school song first, as so we don't go to bed with pain in out minds."

He pulled out his wand and waved it in the air, and a long black ribbon flew out of the end and twisted into words. "Pick your favourite tune. One, two, three, four!"

Everyone began

Hogwarts Hogwarts Hoggy Warty Hogwarts  
Teach us something please  
Whether we be old and bald or young with scabby knees  
Our heads could do with filling with some interesting stuff  
For now they're bare and full of air  
Dead flies and bits of fluff  
So teach us things worth knowing  
Bring back what we've forgot  
Just do your best we'll do the rest and learn until our brains all rot

Sabra finished the last few bars of _Havah Negilah _right as most of the students were finishing. Dumbledore smiled brightly and waved his wand again, the ribbon zooming back into its tip.

"Lovely," he said. "There is only one last announcement. As last year's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was, er, withdrawn from our school by the ministry," a ripple of laughter ran through the Great Hall. "We have a new teacher this year. Professor Cho has come all the way from Japan to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Please welcome Professor Cho."

The entire school shifted their gaze to the end of the staff table, where a tall, pale man with a monocle smiled and waved pleasantly to the school.

"Hakkai!" Sabra gasped.

"You know him?" Neville asked. "Is he good? Will he last the year, do you think?"

Sabra shook her hands in front of her face to ward off the curious stares everyone was giving her. "I don't know him that well; we just talked before. He owns the shop where I got my cat and we had a bit of a conversation. I didn't know he was a professor, though."

Ginny smiled mischievously. "I wonder how old he is," she mused, "'cause he looks kind of cute."

"Ginny!" The other four said, shocked.

"What? He doesn't look that old. None of the teachers really are, actually. Snape is only about twenty-nine or thirty, you know. And professors Vector and Sinastra are both twenty-three." She pointed out the teachers as they rose from the tables, and climbed over the benches.

"_Hamoreh_ Snape looks like he doesn't want to be here," Sabra remarked as she prepared to follow Ginny out of the Great Hall.

"He doesn't," the girl replied. "Wait a second." She turned around and grabbed a boy's sleeve that was passing by her and whispered in his ear. She then turned away from the door and cupped her hands round her mouth. "First year Gryffindors!" she hollered. "First year Gryffindors over here!"

A small bunch of children detached from the main body of students and walked nervously over to them. Sabra noticed similar groups from all four houses around the room doing the same.

"I'm Ginny."

"And I'm Greg. We're your prefects this year. We're going to wait a few more minutes for the rest of you guys, then we'll show you to Gryffindor tower."

In a few moments, Allie walked up talking animatedly with Mheera. The black-haired girl was gesturing wildly as Allie giggled; they walked up to main group and were about to stand next to Sabra, when Ginny grabbed Mheera's sleeve.

"Hey you," she suspiciously. "You're not in Gryffindor; you shouldn't be here."

"Oh, sorry Ginny," Allie said. "I was just talking with her; she's my friend."

"I didn't realize we needed a permit for that," Mheera said sarcastically. "I thought 'inter-house relations' were encouraged."

"I'll take her back," Sabra said. "Just…please, wait for me; I don't want to be lost."

She grabbed Mheera's hand and set off across the room to the Slytherin table, where a bunch of first years were gathering around a pair of tall students. "So how do you like your house mates?" she asked.

"Most of them are a bunch of rich snobs," Mheera replied glumly, then brighten up. "But there's this one sixth year, who came in a bit late, so I noticed him. He's gorgeous."

"Oh." Sabra wondered for a moment if it was Draco Malfoy, the boy who had grabbed her on the train. He _was_ very pretty. Then they arrived at the Slytherin table. She released Mheera's hand and backed quickly up, hoping she was imagining the multiple glares directed her way.

"Bye Sabra!" Mheera called before being assimilated into the crowd.

Sabra walked back to Ginny, Greg, Allie and the group of first years were waiting. "Shall we?" Ginny asked, sticking one arm out, with the elbow crooked.

Sabra threaded her arm into the other girl's and grinned. "We shall." Allie grabbed her other hand and squeezed it as they set off through Hogwarts.


	7. Fireside chats

Chapter seven; wow! I must be dreaming. The plot bunnies usually let go after five… But I'm still inspired! Thanks a ton to DAN and MISSY for REVIEWING! Capital letters count. I will keep writing this fic, because I love it a lot, but I don't think I will keep posting if no one wants to read it but them. I mean, I can send it to two people. Please! Just a 'cool' anonymously will do, really!

The small group of new Gryffindors, Ginny and Greg arrived at the top of a large white marble staircase, and stopped in front of a large portrait of a fat woman in rose pink robes.

Ginny turned around to face the confused group. "What are we doing here?" a small blonde girl asked her. "I thought we were going to our rooms!"

A chorus of 'yeah's and 'uh-huh's followed that. "Is this a prank?" Allie asked Greg suspiciously, tugging on his sleeve.

He laughed. "No." Then turned to Ginny and bowed mockingly. "Would you do the honours, milady?"

She widened her eyes in a good imitation of an elegant lady, and curtsied back at him. "Why my good sir! I would love to, ever so much!" She turned back to the portrait of the fat lady and waved at her. "Hullo. _Aurum_!"

The lady smiled benevolently and the giant portrait swung open to reveal a gaping, yet smooth, hole in the wall.

The group of children gasped, and most mouths dropped open. Then Ginny hoisted herself up, and crawled a few feet in. "This, little boys and girls; oh, and Sabra. Is Gryffindor tower. Come on in!"

The bunch of children hesitated a moment, then gave into their curiosity and scrambled through. Sabra followed at a more sedate pace, though faster than she would have liked, being dragged by the hand by Allie.

They emerged in a large room entirely decorated in gold and red. There was a crimson carpet with gold fringe covering the floor, so plush that most of the eleven-year-olds sank into their ankles. The wall was painted in a deep red, but had about ten snoozing paintings with gold frames. The circular room had a huge hearth on the left side of the portrait hole, which was surrounded by multitudes of deep-red overstuffed armchairs, and a few scattered poufs. Across from the entrance were two small, but sweeping, staircases, one of them gold marble, the other covered with the same plush carpeting that was on the main floor. The gold one had a sign over stating '_Pueri_', the red one's saying '_Puellae_'.

She snapped out of her brief daze of examining when Allie tugged on her hand again. "Come on Sabra!" she urged. "Ginny told me during dinner that pur…um...pueli...umm. Heh."

"Puellae," Sabra supplied.

"Yeah. What you said. She says that it means girls, and we should go up there to find our stuff!"

"Then let's go!" The girls ran for the red carpeted staircase and raced up to the top, until they reached a hallway with seven doors, alternating on each side. The first one had a large number ONE in curling gold letters.

The door was slightly ajar, and the sounds of giggling girls floated into the corridor. They stepped in to find six four-poster bed with dark red bedspreads alternating, three to a side. Small girls, almost overwhelmed by their school robes, already occupied five of the beds. One was beginning to take her robes off, and the other four soon followed suit.

The bed closest to the door was unoccupied by anything, but by the side was a white wicker cage and a huge banded cedar chest. In the cage was a very small brown and white owl, sitting mournfully on the crossbar.

In a flash, Allie was through the door and flopped out on the bed, reaching over to open the cage door. The owl hooted blissfully and spread his wings, flapping once to keep balance, then leaning over to nibble affectionately on her ear.

"Pecan!" Allie cried. She smoothed out his feathers and fed him a small treat from her pocket, which Sabra hoped was either dead or not alive in the first place. It looked like a mouse.

That reminded her of Zion, still peacefully asleep in her robe's largest pocket. She wondered how long that peace would last; it had already been _four_ hours since the sorting.

Allie sat up in her bed, the owl perched on her shoulder, like Zion's favourite spot. "Sabra," she said happily. "This is Pecan; Pecan Pie. You remember I told you about him on the boat?"

"Bond. James Bond," one of the other girls giggled before she could answer her affirmative, and the room exploded into laughter.

After calming down, Allie opened her trunk, revealing a few personal items, the rest of her school robes, and her normal clothes. Sabra helped her store the robes and clothes in the large cherry wardrobe on the left of her bed. The personal items were then scattered as necessary; books in shelves under the nightstand; toothbrush, toothpaste and hairbrush in her cubby in the lavatory, which was a small room off the side of the ONE dormitory with five shower stalls, five sinks and three toilet stalls. Her stuffed animals and a small green baby-blanket were quickly stuffed under the covers, but not before a few good-natured jokes were thrown around the room.

When all was unpacked, they lay back on the bed for a few minutes, holding hands, staring at the elegant cherry, carved wood ceiling.

"Hey Sabra," Allie said, squeezing her hand.  
"Mmhmm?" Sabra hummed, content to lie down on the large comfortable bed.

"Now we have to go put your stuff away; we can meet your dorm mates!" Allie sat up, sure her idea was a fantastic one.

Sabra groaned. "Do we have to? Can't I just…I don't know…stay in here?"

"No." Allie jumped off the bed and out of the room, dragging Sabra with her.

They arrived in front of the door marked 'SIX' in large gold letters, and Allie impatiently pushed it open. Inside were four beds like the ones in Allie's dorm; on two of them were girls about Sabra's age.

She stepped shyly in, with Allie following impatiently, and pushing at the small of her back.

"Er…Shalom," she said loudly, stepping over to one of the unoccupied bed.

"Nice one," Allie muttered, as the two girls stared uncomprehendingly at her.

Sabra laughed nervously. "I…um…I mean hello."

The girl on the left brightened up. "Hey! You're that girl from Israel, right!"

Sabra nodded. "_Ken_. _Ze ani_."

"Sabra!" Allie elbowed her roughly in the side and glared.

"Sorry," she hissed as the two girls stared. "I'm nervous, and it's pretty hard to remember to speak in English, you know!"

"Sorry about that," Allie said to the girls. "This is Sabra, because she seems incapable of introducing herself."  
"I'm Lavender," the first girl smiled brightly. "And she's Parvati."

Sabra smiled and waved uneasily. "Um…can I have this bed?" She motioned to the bed closest to the door. "I get up very early, and I don't really want to…um…rise you? Out of sleep?"

"Wake?" Parvati supplied. "Wake us up?"

Lavender shook her head. "Don't worry. You can have that bed. If you look, I bet your trunk is already there."

Sure enough, it was. Sabra flipped open the clasps on the lid and flipped it open with Allie peering over her shoulder. Inside was a pile of clothing, skirts, blouses and underclothing, robes and her personal items.

Allie stuck her toiletries in the lavatory while Sabra hung the robes and skirts in the wardrobe and folded the blouses in a drawer below.

There was a whole box of books next to the trunk. Allie exclaimed over most of them, full of strange symbols and opening backwards.

"Can you really read this stuff?" she marvelled.

Sabra shrugged. "Yes." Seeing Allie was unconvinced, she took one out and opened it, reading off a line. "_Vi ha etz, sam cha_."

"What does it mean? Can you tell me _that_?" She smirked

The taller girl laughed. "Yes. It means 'and the tree was happy.' The book is The Giving Tree."

Allie grinned. "That's a baby book; why would you have it?"

"There is a Jewish holiday called _Tub'shvat_, and it celebrates the birthday of the trees. Each year on _Tub'shvat_, I read this book and think about it." She smiled sheepishly. "Besides, I love this book."

"Come on show-off, we have more to put away." Allie sneered elegantly and flopped backwards on the bed.

Sabra nodded and bent back over the trunk.

In the bottom of the chest were two red bowls and a rug-covered post. She gasped and took them out, and set them by her bed. Scrambling in her side bag, she took out a bag of brown cat food and quickly poured it in one bowl. In the other, the rushed to the lavatory and poured in some of the clean wash-water.

"What's wrong?" Allie leaned her head upside-down from the bed, her chin up and her dark red hair matching the carpet it touched.

"_Shelchachti ha ochel shel_ Zion!"

"Oh…kay…." Allie rolled her eyes upside down.

Sabra reached carefully into her pocket and took out the small curled up form of Zion. He lifted his head sleepily and hissed groggily. Jumping off her palm, he marched over to the dishes, tail up, and began to eat.

When Sabra turned around, she saw Lavender and Parvati leaning over her shoulder, their eyes wide.

"Awwww!" they said together.

"You know, Sabra," Allie said, shaking her head so the tip of her hair hit Zion. He flicked his tail and continued eating. "You either need to practice your English of calm down. What was it that you said."

"Oh." she blushed, the red making her gold skin darken. "I just said 'Zion's food.' I forgot to feed him."

Suddenly, the door flew open and a tall figure piled with a stack of books stumbled through the door. It staggered over to the last bed, the one on the other side of the room from Sabra's. Dropping the piles of books by the foot of the bed, it collapsed on the bed breathing heavily.

"Some early books, huh?" Lavender walked lazily back to her bed. "Did you leave any for Sabra; she likes to read too you know."

"Sabra?" the figure sat up and squinted over to the bed where Sabra crouched. "She's in our dorm?"

'Oh no, oh no, oh no,' Sabra thought. 'Not her, please not her.'

It was her. Hermione was sitting in the bed across the room, peering at her. "Sabra? Where did you go after dinner? I was calling your name. Didn't you notice?"

Actually she hadn't, but she couldn't stay in here with her. She reached down, grabbed a random book, and after seizing Allie's hand she ran out the door, calling "_Litraot_!" over her shoulder.

What was that!" Allie demanded as they arrived in the almost full common room, yanking her hand out of Sabra's grasp.

"That's _Hermione Granger_, Allie! Hermione Granger! The one that fought with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, next to _Harry Potter_!"

Allie shrugged unconvincingly. "I guess…you could be right… But Raven says they're really nice!"

"That's the point. They're so nice and helpful and famous and _The-Boy-Who-Lived_!"

"Yeah." The redhead nodded. "I…I think you're right. I'd be terrified around them too. But you made friends with them! Right?"

"They probably just felt sorry for me," Sabra said miserably.

"Ron is Ginny's brother, and Ginny was there, wasn't she?"

"Yes, but Ginny's younger than me; it's easier."

"I see." Allie pouted and crossed her arms. "Is that why you made friends with me? Or are you just a ped…um, pedif…What's that word?"

Sabra threw her arms in the air. "How am I supposed to know? You're the Brit!"

"Well let's ask someone; I want to finish my question. Is Ginny here?" They looked around, but failed to find a familiar face amongst the Gryffindors.

"Oh well," Allie shrugged and continued with her earlier question. "Why _did_ you make friends with Mheera and me? I mean, we're five years younger than you."

"I don't really care about age," Sabra explained. "You were nice; I just decided that I wanted to be friends with you. Is that…not how it's done in Britain?"

The smaller girl laughed, then paused and reconsidered. "Well, actually, no. I usually spend a long time getting to know a person before I make friends with them."

"Well then, you're not my friend yet. Let's get to know each other!"

"Oh. Okay." Allie thought for a moment, then reached into Sabra's side bag and took out two pieces of parchment and two quills. "I know a good activity that will get us to know each other real quick!"

"Real_ly _quick_ly_," Sabra corrected, then leaned in as Allie explained the game.

A few moments later, both girls sat up from leaning over the low table, and exchanged parchments. Both had a list of qualities, then answers after each one.

Name: Allie Erin Dougherty

Age: 11

Nationality: Irish

Hair: Red, mid-back

Eyes: Spring green, reading spectacles

Clothes (Normal): Muggle jeans, sleeveless t-shirts

House: Gryffindor (Of course, Sabra!)

Hobbies: Drawing, writing, poetry, theatre, guitar, watercolour painting

Best classes (So far): DADA, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures

Flaws: Double-jointed thumbs, braces (Muggle teeth correctors)

Personality: Quiet artsy, easily amused, horrid temper, loud with friends

Signature scent: Milk n' Honey

Favourite food: Mint Chocolate Chip Ice-cream

Pet: Pecan Pie-Owl

Favourite Colour: Blue

Blood: Pure

Sabra read over Allie's list, raising her eyebrows at some of the listed qualities. When she sniggered, and looked up, Allie grimaced and bared her teeth, showing blue and green braces. When she finished, she put down the parchment and looked at Allie. "Your turn."

Name: Sabra Tzipporah Levi

Age: 16

Nationality: Israeli

Hair: Brown, too curly, ear-bob length

Eyes: Dirt brown

Clothes (Normal): Long skirts, blouses

House: Slytherin. (No, really!)

Hobbies: Reading, Climbing trees, Experimenting with potions

Best Classes: Potions, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy

Flaws: Chubbier than I'd like, Scar on my right leg (I fell out of a palm tree)

Personality: Happy, Bouncy, Hyper, I'll do anything for my friends (Hopefully you now too)

Signature Scent: Pomegranate

Favourite Food: Before today, cherry slivered-ice, now mint-humbugs

Pet: Zion-cat

Favourite Colour: adom Dark red

Blood: Pure

Allie put down the parchment with a grin. "This means we're friends, right?"

"Yes. It does."

Right at that moment, the bell that was apparently right below them tolled ten times. As if one cue, Allie raised her hand to cover a huge yawn. Sabra looked around; the common room was beginning to empty of the younger students.

"Come on, you," Sabra gently took hold of Allie's arm and tugged upwards. "It's time to sleep."

"No," Allie protested. "I'm not even…" she yawned widely, and finished sheepishly, "sleepy."

"Nice try. Go up." She motioned up the girl's stairway with the arm holding Allie and the girl dutifully stood up and walked sleepily up the stairs and into the first room.

Once Allie's door was safely closed, Sabra swivelled the large, squishy wing chair around to face the roaring fireplace. She pulled the book she had grabbed out of her side bag and opened it in her lap. Looking at the title, she laughed. 'Foreign Magic and Why It Stays Foreign.'

Dropping the book back in her bag, she slouched more comfortably in her chair and stared into the blazing fire.

A/N

I know this chapter's short, but I though this was great place to end it…

Thanks a lot to Missy, Dan, and Toxicgoth13

Reviewing is nice. Yeah I know, the customary, review please is getting boring, so how's this.

If you review, I'll write a one-shot for each reviewer with the pairing, location, storyline and rating of your choice. I'll post it and dedicate the WHOLE thing to you.

(Doesn't count for Dan and Missy, 'cause you know I'd do it anyways for you guys…)

Love all!


	8. Moving stairs? Whoa!

There have been requests for translations, so after Hebrew, unless it's a 'duh' thing, I'll give the rough English translation in … 

BONG!

Sabra jumped, startled out of her reverie by the tolling of the twelve o'clock bell. She yawned, raising one robe-clad arm to cover her mouth, then looked around and realized there was no one else in the common room.

"Hypocrite," she muttered to herself. "You're as tired as Allie was." She stood unsteadily up, and dropped her book on the chair. Bracing both hands backwards on her hips, she leaned back as far as she could, sighing as her tense muscles tightened for a moment, then relaxed.

Sabra bent down to pick up her book, and noticed a piece of parchment under her chair. As she picked it up, she noticed another one, farther behind the red chair. Retrieving that one, Sabra noticed the floor of the common room was littered with bits of parchment, candy wrappers and trash.

She sighed, put down her book, and set to cleaning the common room.

Ten minutes later, Sabra stood up with a bit of a groan, put her hands on her hips and surveyed the room in front of her. It wasn't _mavrick_, shining, sparkling but it would do.

She picked the book back up and walked up the red carpeted staircase. When she reached the 'ONE' door, she paused for a moment, cocking her ear. There was a soft hiccup-y coming from inside and Sabra poked her head to see what it was.

It was coming from Allie's bed.

Sabra walked softly over and sat on the edge of the bed, and put her hand in the small of the girl's back. Allie jumped, and lifted her tearstained to look at Sabra. She saw who it was, buried her face in the large fluffy pillow again and gave a large sob.

"_Bubbelah _ sweetie , shah. What wrong?" she whispered, and rubbed her hand up and down Allie's back.

"I m-miss my dad," she hiccupped, pulling her face part way out of the pillow. "A-and Mheera; I wanted to be with her!"

Sabra gently stroked her hair and rubbed her back, whispering gently, "Shhh, _bubbie_. short for bubbelah You can have breakfast with Mheera tomorrow, and I'll help you write a letter to your _aba _after classes, and you can tell him what happened on your first day. Now, does that sound good?"

Allie nodded slowly, then sniffed and asked softly, "Sabra; what does _aba_ mean?"

Sabra laughed and told her, then sat by her side rubbing her back and hair, speaking softly until she fell asleep. A moment before her eyes fluttered shut, Sabra heard her mutter softly, "Mmmthanks Sabra…"

"_En_ _divar,_ _achot katan _ you're welcome, little sister ," she whispered back.

She sat on Allie's bed for a few more minutes until she was sure that the girl was asleep, then got softly up and padded to the other bed, in which a small girl slumbered peacefully. She checked the other beds to make sure they were all asleep, then, relieved, walked out the door.

Sabra paused for a moment at the top of the red stairway, turned to go to her dorm, and did a double-take. In the armchair she had just abandoned, a small boy was sitting cross-legged, chin in hands. She had almost missed him, but for the red (of course) blanket hanging over the arm. His shoulders were shaking slightly with what she suspected were sobs.

Padding down the stairs, she walked up behind him and gently put a hand on his quivering shoulder. He jumped up, and spun to face her; something that didn't work to well with feet tangled in a blanket. Lurching backward, he almost fell, and would have had Sabra not dived forward and halted his progress.

They ended up with Sabra lying on the floor, supporting the boy's shoulders as he hung over the edge of the chair. Pausing that way for a moment, motion quickly resumed when the boy reached up and grabbed the chair, hauling himself up.

"What's that for?" he demanded as Sabra lifted herself off the floor with a groan and a shake of her head. "Y'scared me!"

"_Slichah._ Excuse me/ sorry I did not mean to. I just wanted to know what you were doing up so late. Or early, as it seems." She raised a hand to her face to adjust the wire hook over her ear that had almost fallen off.

"Nothin'," he said grumpily. "I was just thinking."

She lifted a hand to his face and gently wiped the tears from under his eyes with her thumb, then reached into her pocket and took out a handkerchief. Handing it to him, she motioned to his face and ordered "blow."

He did so, bringing on a loud honking noise, then wiped the rest of his tears away with the clean bits. Hesitating as he handed it back, she shook her head and stuffed it in her pocket. It had seen worse, and there was nothing that a good washing couldn't get off of her favourite handkerchief.

"Now," she said, setting herself cross-legged in front of the chair. "Tell me what's wrong."

He looked for a moment as if he wasn't going to reply, but when another sniffle came on, and she hastily took the tissue back out, he complied.

"I was s'pposed to be in Slytherin," he said gloomily. "Blaise is, and I'm lonely 'thout 'im."

"You didn't want to be in Gryffindor?"

"Nu-uh!" he shook his head energetically, then paused. "'sides, Mheera's in Slytherin, an' I wanna be with 'er."

Sabra grinned. "Well how about this; we can sit with Mheera at breakfast tomorrow!"

"Nope. Y'gotta sit with your house."

"Says who," she retorted. "Is that a real rule, or just one of the unwritten ones?"

He shrugged, and she smiled. "I guess we'll see. Come on; let's get you to bed. You and I both have a full day ahead of us. It's my first year too, remember?"

He nodded, and scrambled off the chair. "You're Sabra, from 'srael, right?"

"And you're Vincent Zamboni."

Giggling slightly, he took her outstretched hand. "Nu-uh. Zabini."

She bowed over his hand. "Please forgive me Master Zabini. I beg your pardon."

He smiled regally and led the way up the gold staircase, and into the ONE dormitory. It was much like the girl's one, but for the fact that the theme was gold, and not red.

Walking to the last bed next to the lavatory, he climbed in under the covers and wriggled around a bit until there was a satisfactory dent in both the mattress and pillow, then relaxed. He reached his arms up to Sabra for a good-night hug, then shooed he towards the door. "I c'n go t'bed by myself," he mumbled sleepily. "G'night Sabra,"

"_Lila tov_," good night she whispered as she slipped out the door. Pausing for a moment outside the door, she waited to see if there were any cries, but none came.

Sabra yawned widely, raising one robe-covered arm to cover her mouth. She walked sleepily down the boy's staircase, across the common room and up the girl's. Entering her common room, she saw Zion curled up on her bed, nose touching tail. She grinned and walked as quietly as she could to the lavatory, closing the door so sound wouldn't carry and wake up Lavender, Parvati and Hermione.

After using the toilet and quickly showering, she brushed her teeth and slipped into dark-red flannel pants and a blue button up shirt. Regardless of the heavy covers, she didn't want to get cold.

She slipped into her bed, careful not to wake Zion up, and stretched her toes out. They brushed something hot and she jumped, then smiled. Someone had placed a warming pan at the foot of her bed while she was downstairs, and her bed was wonderfully warm.

She stretched out once more, then snuggled into the bed, one hand over Zion. Then stretched out like this, she fell asleep.

Cold.

Darkness.

That was all Sabra could feel as she sat up from what she _thought _was her soft Hogwarts bed. Looking around, all she could see was greyness and swirls of white as the wind whipped her frosted breath around.

She shivered, and hugged herself, wondering what was happening. All she could tell about her surroundings was that she was outside, and far from any civilization. As she hugged herself, Sabra realized that her hands didn't have as far to go; her chest was suspiciously flat. She looked down and blanched; she had the body of a child! Maybe three years old!

Sabra opened her mouth to gasp, than pulled it in when she thought deeper. This was her three-year-old self; before she had been adopted and before her childhood memories started. Maybe she could find something out…

She sat down on the cold ground, attempting to land on the sparse grass, but there was not nearly enough to make it any softer. Her clothes weren't much help either; all she was wearing was a pair of coveralls and a little pink jacket. Had the situation not been so grave, she would have laughed at the ridiculousness of the childish outfit.

She settled herself down for a long wait, and was surprised when two amorphous figures appeared on the horizon after only a few minutes of sitting. They got closer very slowly, so it took Sabra only a moment to realize that they weren't shapeless--as she had first thought--but wearing large black cloaks. The little light there was glinted off their faces, revealing that the silver was a mask and not some creature's true face.

She wondered briefly why they were walking so slowly, but quickly saw the burdens they dragged behind them on the cold ground. Large lumps that look suspiciously like--

Bodies.

Sabra stopped wanting to meet the two cloaked figures when she realized that they dragged _bodies _behind them!

But they wanted to meet her. At about fifty feet from where Sabra sat, for some reason unable to move, they huddled together for a moment. When they broke apart, there was a moment of stillness, then both cloaked figures dropped the bodies to the ground and took off at a dead run towards Sabra.

Bright silver knives shone in their hands, which they raised as they quickly got closer. Sabra ordered her body to move, but it seemed frozen in place. Breathing faster, she struggled with her heavy limbs, as the two figures got closer and closer.

Both came right up to her, and Sabra could see the glint in their eyes through the holes in the silver masks. She held her breath as both knives came towards her; pointing at her small three year-old chest, they came right up and drove the knives in, right below her neck. She screamed and blacked out; wicked laughter being the last thing she could remember.

"No!" Sabra sat up with the word on her lips. She gasped and clutched at her chest, checking beneath her neck for anything like a knife mark, but she could find nothing but the scar she had gotten after falling off the roof. She breathed deeply for a few minutes, hand over her heart, as she tried to recall her dream, but it just slipped away into the confines of her mind. All she could remember was something about…silver masks?

Sabra shook her head, and swung her legs out of bed. She needed some air. Going to the window by Parvati's bed, she climbed up into the window-nook and pressed her nose to the glass, looking out.

The sun was barely peeking over the edge of the mountains; rays of sun only _just_ lighting the Hogwarts' ground. The hut by the edge of the woods looked homey, with smoke trickling out of the chimney and the door half open. Then out of the door came Professor Hagrid, and she grinned. She hoped that his classes were outside.

Reminded of her want for some air, Sabra tried the window, the realized that it didn't open. She smiled wryly. Of course. Why would there be an open window in a high tower? She would just have to go outside.

Walking to the giant armoire by her bed, Sabra reached in, and was about to pull out a red blouse, when she remembered that school started today. She needed to wear her uniform.

Sabra grabbed a white button-up shirt and a grey vest and threw them on the bed, quickly following them with a long black skirt and one of her huge school robes. Then, quickly slipping out of her night-clothes, she rushed into her skirt and shoved the shirt on, buttoning it as fast as she could and tucking it into her waistband just as fast.

Now that she was dressed and decent, she took a little bit longer on the rest of her appearance. She put her arms through the vest sleeves, and carefully buttoned it, taking a moment to properly fasten a button that had slipped out of the shirt underneath.

Reaching back into the armoire, Sabra took out the brightly coloured tie that she had charmed early in the summer to change to her house colours. She personally thought that it was a bit garish, but the gold was shimmer-y, and pretty to look at, and red was, obviously, her favourite colour. So she had no reservations in knotting the cloth around her neck; only tight enough to keep the collar closed, not enough to choke.

Then, her clothing in order, Sabra grabbed her brush from the nightstand and quickly ran it through her hair, attempting to get it into _some _semblance of order. After trying--and failing--Sabra gave up and grabbed an elastic headband, and shoved her head through it. Once that was done, she took her wizard's hat from the bedpost and rolled it up loosely, then decided to wear it, and placed it on her head with the ties flapping.

All other aspects of her appearance done, Sabra grabbed her robe and slipped it on, carefully buttoning all buttons but the top one. Then, taking her wand from the nightstand, Sabra slipped it in her pocket, put her book in the other, and set off downstairs, only pausing to grab her side bag and throw in over her head, carefully avoiding her wizard's hat.

Once in the common room, she looked around for the door, and remembered where it was when a flash of movement brought her gaze to a round recess in the wall. Looking down, she saw that what had moved was a small black kitten. Zion, in fact.

"_Shalom katul_, hi cat " she whispered. He walked over to her, tail hi in the air, and demanded to be picked up. "Sorry kitty, I don't think you're allowed in classes, and that's where I'm going after this." He sat down and looked pitifully at her, but she just laughed and walked to the portrait hole.

Swinging it open, she jumped into the corridor and looked both ways, wondering where to go.

"Hello there," a friendly voice called. She gasped and whipped around, then cried out as her feet tangled in each other and she fell to the floor.

"Ouch," Sabra muttered, her nose mashed into the cold stone and her arm pinned uncomfortably under her torso. She blinked once, twice, then slowly got to her feet, and looked around for the source of the voice, massaging her sore arm and twitching her nose. She saw nothing, except for a few snoozing paintings.

"Hello," the voice repeated again, and Sabra saw that it came from the bottom of the Fat Lady's portrait. She looked closer and saw a girl seated on the floor of the painting, maybe fifteen or sixteen, wearing an elegant black dress, her black hair pinned in coils on her head. "I'm sorry if I scared you," she said. "You're the new girl."

Sabra blushed, hoping her dark skin hid it. "Word travels fast," she said, by ways of an excuse.

The girl shrugged. "Every one of us knows; there a few large paintings in the Great Hall that most of us hide in during the sorting." She laughed. "Even Dingus Kundle's never seen anyone fall off the sorting stool!"

Sabra hid her embarrassment by asking "Who is Dingus Kundle?"

"He was the first headmaster after Helga Hufflepuff died. She lived the longest of all of the founding four, and then she appointed Dingus." The girl looked away for a moment, and reached up to fix one of the elegant coils of black hair on his head.

Sabra took this as a dismissal, and turned to go back down the hall, then stopped. She still hadn't decided which way to go, and both corridors seemed to stretch on indeterminably. Remembering that she had come to the portrait by ways of a marble staircase, she looked around for one, but found nothing except for a landing with a staircase-shaped gap in its gate.

"Go left," the girl behind her advised. "But hurry. I think that staircase is leaving in a few minutes."

Sabra took her advice, turning left and walking quickly down the hallway. She didn't understand what the black haired girl meant about the staircase leaving, but she vaguely remembered Ginny saying something like that…

She reached the next landing and saw a sturdy flight of marble steps leading all the way down to the bottom floor. She grinned and jumped on, hurrying down with her side bag and hat ties flying behind her. Almost at the bottom, Sabra nearly decided to slide down the huge banister, but didn't when she remembered that someone could be watching. It was bad enough that she had fallen off the sorting stool, but to fall off a banister, down perhaps many floor, could be embarrassing and potentially dangerous.

She had almost reached the bottom when a loud grinding sound reached her ears. She paused, unsure of what was happening, and tumbled forward as the huge, supposedly sturdy staircase began to move beneath her feet!

She rolled down the last floor's worth of stairs, loosing her hat and smashing her head on more than a few marble stairs.

After falling down the last few stairs, Sabra came to a stop on the floor below, her head giving one last knock on the stone.

"Nnng," she moaned, raising one hand up to her head, which ached in a way that Sabra was sure was going to turn into a splitting headache, as soon as feeling returned to her skull. On its way back down, Sabra's hand felt warn wetness beneath her left eye, and realized that along with the headache and a black eye, she had a deep gash on her cheek bone.

She reached into her pocket for her wand to cast a quick healing charm, still lying on the floor, when she remembered one of McGonagall's last minute rules as they walked into the Great Hall. No magic allowed in the corridors; she was going to be stuck with this!

Sabra shoved her wand back in her pocket and clutched her head, slowly levering herself to her feet. She staggered for a moment, her head feeling as if it was splitting and only seeing out of one eye, as the other had already started to swell up.

Standing for a moment to regain her balance, Sabra saw (out of her right eye) that her hat had drifted gently to the floor at her feet. She picked it up, muttering curses under her breath, and jammed it on her head, this time tying it securely, jerking the string and almost choking herself.

She straightened her robe and bag, pulling her skirt back into place, all the while glaring at the white staircase, sitting quite peacefully in what seemed like its permanent place.

Stomping off down the corridor, Sabra heard a giggle that _could_ have come from a black haired painting, but she couldn't _really_ be sure.

A/N

Hello all! Thanks for the reviews! I'd list them, but I'm grounded and posting this at the school library…

But still; I love you guys for them!

Next chapter: Sabra meets Fang… Haha. Don't worry, s'not that title.

Please review. I really only have three or four, and I'm getting depressed. I mean, my other fics had a bunch of reviews, so why isn't this one getting any…? Is it that bad? Please, tell me what you think about it; even flames.

Flames will be used to warm up Sabra's dorm at night.


	9. Savage?

Sabra stalked into the Great Hall, her head still aching from her tumble down the stairs but the blood under her eye mostly dry. Her right eye was beginning to puff up and her vision was becoming blurry. She gently touched it and winced; it would be a black eye.

A small crash caught her attention and she looked up, startled. In the Great Hall were about one hundred house elves putting food on the table. She wondered about that for a distracted moment, and then realized that the food's magical appearance the other night had probably been a special event for the opening night feast.

A small tug on the side of her robe alerted her to the presence of a small female house elf bowing nervously at her feet.

"Yes?"

"Miss," the house elf said, "Toggle is wondering if miss cleaned up the tower last night before bed."

"What?" Sabra had to think for a moment, her aching head protesting each thought. "Oh, yes I did. I didn't want to leave it dirty."

"Oh no miss," Toggle said, tugging fretfully on her long ear. "Cleaning the tower is Toggle's job! Miss mustn't clean!"

As she thought about it, Sabra realized that the common room _had_ seemed cleaner as she walked out this morning. "But I like cleaning," she said, "and I don't want you to have too much work; I know you also put the warming pans in our beds. I just wanted to help."

Toggle's big eyes started filling with tears. "Thank you miss," she sniffed. "Miss is kind."

"Miss is kind of hungry," Sabra said, laughing slightly.

"Oh! Toggle is sorry! Miss came to the Great Hall for breakfast!"

"Just a bit," Sabra assured her hastily as no less than ten house elves hurried over, bearing both blue and white trays of food.

"I'll take white," she said, not _really_ wanting meat for breakfast, though she did wonder what there could be to eat other than bacon and sausage, and both of those were pig.

Immediately three trays were set on the Gryffindor table and she was quickly ushered to the seat in front of it. House elves quickly put a plate, fork, knife and spoon in front of her, and one handed her a carefully folded napkin, which she placed on her lap with a "thank you."

Opening the covered trays as the house elves walked back to setting up the Great Hall, Sabra found a bowl of Israeli salad, a platter of pita and a small dish of feta cheese. Smiling slightly at the house elves' kindness, she ripped a pita in half and filled it with salad and cheese. Quickly saying the _motzi_, she bit in, and made a happy-puppy face around the huge bite. It was perfect.

Finishing off three pitas, she ended with a goblet of orange and pomegranate juice, from which the pitcher just _happened_ to be sitting right by her seat. Smiling again, Sabra looked over at the house elves, just finishing setting up breakfast.

Then she realized something. Where were all the students? None had been in the halls, nor the stair to witness her fall (for that she was grateful) nor the common room or the Great Hall. Why wasn't anyone awake?

She stood up and shook out her skirts, then walked over to the house elves, who were marching quickly into what seemed to be a…painting? She shrugged and tapped the nearest house elf on the shoulder.

he squeaked, and spun around, then saw her. "Miss," he piped, bowing so low that his long pointed nose touched the ground. "How can Monty help Miss?"

"I was just wondering where the rest of the students were." Sabra nodded politely to the half-dozen or so house elves who bowed to her as they passed her on the way to the painting.

"The students are abed miss," Monty squeaked. "Their wake-up is not until seven-thirty. It is still an hour."

"What? They sleep so late?" Sabra shook her head in disbelief, nodded a 'thank you' to Monty and wandered out of the Great Hall. "At Akiba, we woke at six…" She continued her conversation with herself as she walked out the doors of the Great hall, into the Entrance Hall and out the front doors, which were cracked open enough for someone to squeeze through, though for someone of her size, it was a tight fit.

She walked down the front steps and out onto the grounds, fully appreciating its beauty in the early morning light. The lake sparkled, a red line on the surface where the sun's first rays were beginning to shine. An early morning mist lay over the grass, wet with dew, and was blowing gently away, revealing a vast lawn dotted here and there with trees. A forest began a little past where Professor Hagrid's cabin was, but the trees in there were darker, and seemed quite ominous. 'The Forbidden Forest', she supposed.

Setting her sights on a tree by the lake, she walked towards it and was glad to see that the branches were quite low to the ground, and continued all the way up; an ideal seat to read in for a few hours until classes began.

She ran the last few feet to the tree, and tucked her shirt in her skirt securely, glowering at her bulky robes as she tied the skirt part around her waist. Hoisting her self up on the first branch, she cursed in her head as her skirt caught on the rough bark. She shivered for a moment as the cold morning air hit her legs, but quickly forgot it as the next branch appeared over her head.

She realized this as it knocked her hat to the side, nearly strangling her in the process by yanking at the ties around her neck. Now she thought a whole stream of curses as she seemingly patiently tugged it back into place.

When she reached a large branch parallel with another, about fifteen feet off the ground, Sabra untied her robes from her waist, sat neatly on one branch, putting her feet on the other so no one could look up her skirt, and took her book from her side bag. '_Mercycle_' by Piers Anthony, one of the books she had found in a small, muggle used-bookstore by Diagon Ally. Opening it to her crimson bookmark, she began to read.

About an hour later and halfway into the book, Sabra looked up, startled by a noise. She peered down through the leafy branches of the tree, and was surprised to see a large dog jumping up at the tree. Taking a second glance, Sabra realized she was mistaken. 'Dog' was, perhaps, not strong enough of a word to describe this pony-sized creature. The huge beast began barking hysterically, sensing he now had her full attention, and was throwing himself at the tree, as if to climb it himself, somehow, to meet her.

Not thinking if it was _actually_ the wisest thing to do, Sabra tucked her book in one of the huge pockets of her robe, grabbed a large fistful of skirt in one hand, and jumped.

It wasn't the wisest thing to do.

Sabra sailed through the air for a moment, and then landed heavily on the ground, her fall broken by bent knees and a patch of less-than-soft grass. She fell backwards, and rolled down a bit of a hill to stop right at the base of some huge _something_.

"'ello Levi," the something said.

Oh. Professor Hagrid. She struggled to her feet, frowning when her head began aching again, and her black eye became apparent as the professor swam in and out of focus. "_Shalom Homoreh _Hagrid," Sabra said with a bit of an unsteady bow.

he grinned. "I see tha' Fang 'ere found you." Motioning his hand to the right and snapping his large fingers, he called out "FANG!"

The pony/dog gave a wordless cry for joy, turned his attention away from the tree (which he apparently thought Sabra was still in) and came bounding over. he ran to Sabra and jumped up, putting his elbows (Do dogs have elbows…?) on her shoulders and resting her huge head on top of hers. Sabra noticed he was still stooped, regardless of being on top of her.

he rested there for a moment, quietly drooling on her shoulder, while she concentrated all of her energy on keeping her knees unbent and her back straight, regardless of the great weight pressing down.

_Finally_, the huge creature jumped down from her, not without first leaving a large quantity of drool on her clean robes. She grimaced and wrinkled her nose, noticing that Professor Hagrid seemed entirely oblivious to his pet's actions.

"I thou' Fang found 'imself a clabbert (1) up in tha' tree, but then I saw ya jump down and land righ' at my feet. I _was_ a bit confused, b'cause neither students nor clabberts take very kindly to be up a' this hour." he chuckled a bit, and ruffled Fang's ears affectionately.

Sabra's eyes widened. "Is there a rule that I can't be outside this early?" she asked anxiously. "I don't want to break any rules, especially not today!"

_Hamoreh_ Hagrid grinned at her. "No rule. Just tha' most students don't wake up 'till 'bout now. You're up pretty early…"he trailed off.

"Hey now Levi. What 'appened to your face? You didn't get in a fight, didja?"

She quickly shook her head, and immediately regretted it as her head began to pound. "No _Hamoreh_; one of the staircases moved as I was walking down."

"Oh. Well then, why didn' you go to the hospital wing? It's right through those doors!"

"Really? _Toda rabah, Homoreh_!" she cried as she bowed quickly to him, then raced off towards the small set of doors he had indicated; careful when she remembered that she only had half the vision she should.

Reaching the small oak doors set in the middle of a large building, disconnected from the main castle, Sabra slowed down and briefly touched the _chamsa_ around her neck in place of the _mezuzah_ that would customarily hang on the doorpost.

She timidly knocked on the door and waited until a loud woman's called "come in!" Sabra twisted the bronze doorknob and opened the door.

Inside was a large rectangular room filled with white beds and folding screens. One bed had a screen around it and she heard faint retching noises coming from it. Sabra almost smiled; apparently the British _were _human and could eat too much at a meal as well.

"Hello," a voice said from behind her, and she jumped and turned to face the voice. The words had come from a tall African-English woman in black robes and white wings. (2) She was holding a tray of carefully labelled vials and walking towards the bed with the retching sounds.

Sabra bobbed her head to the woman. "This is the _mirpa'ah _ nurse/hospital wing ?" she asked.

The woman nodded. "Yes," she answered, "and I think that you need a bit of help. Sit there." She indicated a high cushioned bench by the door that led into the main castle.

Sabra walked over and hopped up as the lady placed the tray on a table by the covered bed. She heard murmurs and the gurgle of liquid being poured into a vessel, then the harsh coughing of someone who's just had medicine.

Then the woman came over to the table and pulled her wand out of her sleeve. She prodded Sabra's face a bit but, strangely, it didn't hurt.

As she continued her examination, she chatted with Sabra as if they had met on the street. "I expect you're the new girl, Sabra. I'm the nurse here, Madam Pomfrey. This cut looks old; maybe more than an hour. Why didn't you come here earlier?" Then, not waiting for an answer, she continued. "Well, no matter, I can fix all this up. But next time get here sooner; I can't do as much when it's old."

Sabra nodded, then flinched when, without notice, Madam Pomfrey's wand blazed silver, then red. The woman tutted absently as she parted Sabra's hair to view the bump on her head, then took the girl's spectacles off to examine her black eye.

After a few more moments of silence, the retching in the background having stopped, Madam Pomfrey stepped back. "I've done what I can," she said, sliding her wand back into her sleeve.

"_Mah _ what ? You're done?" Sabra raised a hand to her face and felt her eye and cheek. The skin where the cut had been now held nothing but a smooth line of new, pink skin, and her eye felt perfect when she touched it, but for a small ache where the step had actually hit her face. On her head where the bump had been, the area was still a bit tender, but that was all.

"Wonderful," she said happily. "It feels great!"

Madam Pomfrey nodded her head slowly. "Yes," she said, "I expect it does. The scar will fade in a few weeks, and from now on, come straight to me when you get hurt."

Sabra nodded and hopped off the bench, then stopped, realizing that she didn't know which way to go. She turned to Madam Pomfrey and saw the dark-skinned woman pointing to a large doorway hidden behind dark wooden doors.

"Thank you!" she called, opening one of the doors and going out into the corridor, but Madam Pomfrey was already walking into the back room of the _mirpa'ah_.

Closing the heavy door behind her, she turned around and gazed down both sides of the corridor, each seeming to stretch on forever.

Sabra rolled her eyes, annoyed that once again, she didn't know where to go. She looked for the nearest painting and found one of a tall girl in a black velvet dress, posing on an elegant couch with a owl perched on the top. Looking closer, Sabra saw glossy black coifs on her head, and a wicked smirk on her otherwise tranquil face.

The painting that had told her to go down the moving staircase!

"_At! Ze akol biglalech! Tiri ma'asit at tmunah mirsha'at, metumtenet ve idyotit!_ You! It's all your fault! Look at what you did, you mean, stupid, idiotic photo! "

"Calm down," the painting said. "I can't understand you when you speak like a savage. But it _is_ sort of funny," she added thoughtfully.

"**Savage**!_Ma amart? Ani asir et hakesem mimech achshav! _ What did you say? I should de-spell you myself, right now! "

"I said, I don't know what you're saying."

Sabra bit her cheek and counted, in Hebrew, to one hundred by fives. She ten opened her mouth and said slowly, deliberately, in English to the painting, "I am not, nor are any of my people, savage."

She continued. "My speaking in another language is merely the result of my anger at a certain finger-painting picture, not fit to hang on an icebox. And remember this, never forget this: When the Hebrews were in the Promised Land, writing the torah and turning out great scholars, _your_ people were still playing football with the heads of your enemies."

A/N

Booyah! Chapter friggin 9! Oh yeah!

1 A clabbert is a magic animal. Look in that HP animal books. (What's it called again…?)

2 I took a bit of liberty making Madam Pomfrey African-English, but I don't think it says anything about her colour in the books. If it does, just tell me…

Nine….hahahahaha! Go friggin me! I know it's short but I wanted to pump it out as soon as camp was over.


	10. Potions

Sabra stomped into the Great Hall, this time not crashing into objects due to her eyesight, but in as sore a mood as before. Her anger, however, evaporated as soon as she saw the occupants of the Gryffindor table. Allie sat next to Neville, talking across the table to Dennis while Ginny, next to him, conversed animatedly with the boy from down the table; Dean, Sabra remembered his name was.

She walked over and slid into the seat next to Neville.

"Morning," he said sleepily, and stifled a yawn. The Great Hall was not even half filled, but as Sabra watched, she saw a steady trickle of students enter, some with the same look of sleep upon their faces.

"_Boker orr_," Sabra replied, and Neville turned to her with a question in his eyes.

She opened her mouth to answer him, but was stopped when a voice said behind her, "she said good morning back to you."

Sabra spun around and saw, at her eye level, a green and silver snake wrapped around an ornately decorated 'M.' Looking up, a pair of brown eyes sat over a mouth the was lightly twisted in a sarcastic smile.

"Mheera!" Sabra said happily, waving up at the, for now, taller girl.

"Hey," Mheera said, then turned to Allie, her smile becoming more meaningful. "Mornin' Als. How's your first night?"

"Fine," the redhead answered, stealing a glance at Sabra, who smiled gently at her.

Mheera caught the look, and laid a sympathetic hand on Allie's shoulder. "It'll get better, I promise," she said. "Remember how sad I was the first time my parents left, and I stayed with you? We were having fun in no time!"

Allie nodded happily, and patted the seat beside her. "Come sit down, have breakfast," she said. "Look; strawberry muffins!"

Mheera shook her head, and took a look around. "We can't do that," she hissed. "I'm prolly gonna get in trouble just for talking to you! Slytherins hate Gryffindors!

"Do you hate me?"

"What?" Mheera looked at Sabra like she had grown horns.

"I said, do you hate me?"

"No," Mheera shook her head. "Why would I?"

"Then you're not a Slytherin; you just sleep in the same dorm as them. Sit down, have a, what's that called again? Oh yes. A moofen."

"Muffin," Dennis and Neville chorused, and Allie reached over Neville to hand her one of the pastries from a platter, shaped like a cylinder with a poofy bit on top.

Not bothering to remind them that it might not be _kosher_, Sabra shook her head. "I already had breakfast," she said, declining the strange British food.

"What?" Dennis said. "But we were down really early; we'd have seen you!"

"Early?" Sabra laughed as Mheera shrugged and sat next to Allie, grabbing the muffin out of her hand. "You were still asleep when I _finished_ my food. The house elves were setting the tables when I came in."

Dennis looked at her in disbelief. "You _saw_ the house elves? I mean, in here and not the kitchens!"

Sabra raised her eyebrows. "That's a great deal?"

"Big deal," Neville whispered, and Sabra blushed slightly. English wasn't as easy as all those Brits thought it was…

"Well," Ginny said. "What time did you wake up? Maybe the house elves forgot the marmalade or something."

Sabra thought about the sun rising over the Forbidden Forest. "About five-thirty or six. I was tired so I woke up later than usual."

"Six?" Allie and Dennis chorused.

"Later than usual!" Neville and Mheera said together.

They were interrupted by a hand dropping a stack of papers on the table between them. The looked up to find Ron Weasley, best friend of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Too early, he mumbled, and made as if to walk away, but Ginny reached out and tugged his sleeve.

"Ron," she said. "You pig. Where are your manners? Didn't you notice Sabra here? You know; the new girl…?"

Sabra sunk down into her seat, but it was too late. Ron had already turned back. "Hey, Sabra!" He said. "We missed you coming down this morning; where were you?"

Sabra bowed her head and muttered something while Ginny said matter-of-factly "Sabra came down for breakfast at six."

"Six? Wow," he shook his head grinning good-naturedly. "Well, I'm off. I have more schedules to deliver. McGonagall stopped me as I can in and asked me to pass these out…"

Ron walked off as they all reached out to take the papers with their name on them. Allie and Mheera looked over theirs, then swapped and looked over each other's. Mheera smiled. "We have Defense Against the Dark Arts first, Als, Then Herbology after lunch!"

Ginny looked over hers silently, as she was the only fifth year, as did Dennis, but Neville looked over his and groaned. "Sabra! We have double Potions with Snape first!"

"Is that…bad?" she asked looking over her schedule. She half listened to Neville talking about how bad Snape was, as she reviewed it.

9:00 - Potions

10:00 - Potions

11:00 - Magical Theory

12:00 - Lunch

1:00 - Transfigurations

2:00 - Transfigurations

3:00 - Divination

"Sabra? Are you listening?" Neville waved his hand in her face, rolling his eyes as she snapped her head up; startled.

"_Mah_?_ Itkavanti, ken. What? I mean, yes _I mean, yes. Sorry. So what's wrong with him?"

Neville seemed to be searching for the right words to describe the dark professor who had been glaring so harshly at the new DADA teacher last night.

"He hates all Gryffindors and takes away points like there's no tomorrow. And he's an oily faced bastard."

Sabra thought for a moment, then asked, "what's a bastard?"

"In this context? An evil malicious asshole."

Even as Sabra protested, Ginny and Dennis nodded emphatically. "But he can't be that bad! And you shouldn't talk about a teacher that way!"

"Well," Ginny said, covering another morning yawn and looking at the clock on the wall. "You're about to find out."

Sure enough, the great bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast. In moments, the Great Hall was nearly empty and Sabra grabbed her bag as she trotted after Neville, trying to catch up. "_Regah_; _regah_! Wait wait! "

Entering the cool, dark potions classroom, Sabra chose a seat by the front, next to a boy Ginny had mentioned briefly last night; Dean. She un-collapsed her new cauldron and set it on the low table in front of her, sitting down just as the late bell rang on the door opened.

In swept _Hamoreh_ Snape, his black robes billowing behind him as he stalked to his desk.

"A new year has begun, bringing back last year's bumbling idiots. Hopefully this year I can force some sort of knowledge into your thick skulls, but as it seems quite unlikely, I am required to put up with you as is."

Sabra found it hard to keep up with the professor's low, quiet speech in English, but she caught the notion of it. She winced, thinking perhaps Neville had been correct in his description.

As Snape called role, Sabra heard Harry, Hermione and Ron's names called. She sighed. They were so nice; even to stupid foreigners such as herself who didn't even know he was The-Boy-Who-Lived.

She smiled bitterly, but was interrupted out of her thoughts by the professor flicking his wand at the blackboard and the list of ingredients appeared, under the potion's name; The Spirit Revealer Potion.

"This potion," _Hamoreh_ Snape said, "is much like the transformation into Animagus form and the patronus charm. Even though both animals may be different from each other, they show the true spirit of the casting witch or wizard. This potion, when properly prepared, and in the correct dosage, will turn the person drinking it into their muggle animal equivalent.

"An example: A very cowardly and cruel person would perhaps turn into a hyena." He surveyed the class for a moment, then asked "does anyone know the difference between taking the spirit revealer potion and turning into an Animagus?"

Two hands shot up, Sabra's and Hermione Granger's. Snape looked down at Sabra. "Yes?"

"The Animagus transformation can be taken off by the person using it at any time, and they retain all of their human consciousness. The Spirit Revealer Potion is in a specific dose for a specific amount of time, and the drinker's humaness is gone; they actually become the animal, for a while at least." Sabra recited what she had been taught, stumbling over a few of the English words, but still proud of herself.

"Five points off Gryffindor, Miss Levi. Humanness is not a word."

Sabra gaped at the professor smirking down at her. "Now," he continued. "Take a partner and begin the potion. Instructions are on page 176 of your potions textbook."

Sabra turned around to find everybody paired up. The Slytherins had gone with themselves and the Gryffindors had, too. Two girls wearing make-up and giggling with each other had paired up; Hermione with Ron; Harry with Neville, who smiled apologetically at Sabra; Dean with another boy who Sabra had seen in the common room last night.

The professor swooped down on her and raised an eyebrow.

"No partner, Miss Levi?"

"No, Professor," Sabra said quietly, bowing her head. Snape looked around the room, then back at her.

"Then you'll do this potion on your own," he said smoothly, "as a test of your skills. Regardless of numerous transcripts on your profile, I'd like to be sure that Akiba is really…up to speed."

Sabra glared at the professor as soon as his back was turned. The nerve of him! To suggest that Akiba hadn't been a good school!

She angrily collected her ingredients and almost took flobberworm juice instead of leech juice before she realized that she needed to be calm to make a complicated potion such as this one. After taking a few deep breaths, Sabra went back to her table and began the potion.

After an hour or so, Professor Snape got up from his desk where he had been grading papers to walk around the room and inspect various potions. He stopped by Draco Malfoy's and peered into the cauldron. "Very good, Mr. Malfoy. Your potion is perfect."

As he walked around, Sabra stole a glance at Draco to find him staring nastily at her, smirking. Sabra hurriedly looked away, and suppressed a gulp; he seemed angry at her, maybe she shouldn't have locked him in yesterday.

She felt a presence over her shoulder and a tall dark shadow fell on the light green of her potion.

"Do you believe yourself finished, Miss Levi? Or do you simply find yourself incapable of completing a simple on-grade potion?"

Sabra bowed her head to him, trying to remember to be respectful towards hamoreh Snape. "No, Sir," she said, reaching for her knife, "I still need to add the Gala root."

There was no expression on his face. "Then do so."

Shaking slightly under the harsh gaze of the potions master, Sabra carefully cubed each root, then dropped them delicately into the cauldron three at a time. Stirring it counter-clockwise seven times, Sabra finished the potion. It was now an ethereal pearly white, steaming gently as she put out the fire and ladled a portion into a vial. After labeling and stoppering the vial, she turned to the professor, still standing over her shoulder.

"Finished, Professor."

He strode up to the front of the room and cleared his throat. The students finished up their potions and faced the professor.

"Miss Levi will now demonstrate the spirit revealer potion." Sabra gulped. He beckoned to her to come to the front and looked at the vial in her hand. "That will last about one hour. take only a sip; that will last for the rest of class."

He motioned for her to drink it, and she unstoppered the vial. She was about to drink it when something occurred to her. "Sir?" she said tentatively, aware of the impatient stares of her classmates.

"What is it?" Snape asked, glaring.

"What if I turn into something like a fish, or a jellyfish?"

He looked at her as if she were daft. "If your personality is so simple that you turn into some manner of sea life, then I'll conjour you some water," he said between gritted teeth. "Now drink! You're wasting class time, and you wouldn't want to be late to your next class, now would you." It was not a question.

Sabra took one last nervous look at the steaming vial in her hand before taking hesitant sip.

Nothing happened for a moment or two, and Sabra swallowed again, grimacing as the over sweet taste of the potion lingered in her mouth.

Then one of the boys, Dean, pointed at her shouting "look! Look at her head!"

Sabra crossed her eyes to find that her nose was getting longer. And furrier. And _golden_!

Her robes seemed to bag out and she quickly let them drop to the floor. Her feet got rounder, feeling tight in her shoes and in a matter of moments, a large animal stood in the middle of a pile of clothes. She looked around the classroom, opened her mouth--

And barked.

Wagging her tail and prancing from foot to foot stood a large golden retriever.

Looking down at the creature, Snape raised an eyebrow. "The golden retriever. Known for its loyalty and friendliness, along with creativity and a desire to explore." He smirked scornfully. "Often, they are unable to control their emotions, as is evident."

Sure enough, Sabra was wagging her tail ferociously. He's talking, he's talking, he's talking, he's looking at me! He loves me, OH he loves me! Still talking, Ooh, maybe he's talking about ME!

She danced in place and sniffed enthusiastically. Wow, smells! They're so COOL! Look! More people; they must love me too! Ooh, I love being loved!

"Here Sabra," Neville said, barely holding in a laugh. "Here girl."

No!" Snape said, holding his hand out for them to stop, but it was too late.

Oooh! My NAME! Sabra bounded into the rest of the classroom, her waving tail knocking supplies and vials to the floor. She jumped up on Neville, bowling him over in her enthusiasm. Slurping his face, Sabra barked loudly and ran around in a small circle.

Snape rolled his eyes and glared at the scene before him while everyone else laughed uproariously. 'If you can't beat them," he thought grudgingly, 'join them.'

"Sabra!" He called sternly. She turned around and stood at attention, looking eagerly at him. "Come here _right now_!"

Sabra's ears flattened slightly as she made her way to the front of the room, her tail wagging only slightly; hesitantly. He said my name; oh...But he sounds MAD! Oh no, he's mad! I did something wrong! Oh no oh no oh no oh no! I better make him HAPPY! Sabra walked up to the potions master and nudged his hand with her cold nose. He looked down at her, sneering.

"Bad dog! Very bad dog!"

Sabra whined, big brown eyes looking pleadingly at him. He's mad, oooooh I was a bad dog! Bad bad bad bad bad!

Snape waved his wand at the wall and a door appeared and opened. He pointed at the door and glared at the dog before him, pitifully wagging her tail. "Go!"

He hates me! I was bad oh no oh no bad bad, uh oh bad!

Snape gave a cold look toward the dog as she whined softly and entered the side room.

"Misses Patil and Brown, take Miss Levi's clothes and stay with her until she reverts to her original form."

The two giggling girls quickly cleaned up their area and picked up Sabra discarded robe, shirt, tie, socks and shoes, and (discreetly) her bra and underwear. They brought them into the side room just as the bell rang.

"I'll give you three a pass," Snape said grudgingly, as if each kindness he preformed would take a year off of his life.

They came in to find Sabra sitting in the middle of the floor, eyes limpid and tongue hanging out as she panted. She whined once and ducked her head as she panted.

"I don't know if you remember me," one of them began slowly. "But I'm Lavender, and she's Parvati..." she trailed off as Sabra still looked uncomprehending at her and thumped her tail on the ground.

"Don't be stupid," Parvati hissed. "Professor Snape said she'd be like a real dog; dogs don't understand English!"

"Oh. Yeah."

"Leave her to me," Parvati said. "I have a dog at home, remember?" She put the bundle of clothes on the floor and snapped her fingers. "Here Sabra! Come here girl!"

Oooh! Love! My name! Love love love love love! She loves me yay hooray!

Sabra _leapt_ over to Parvati, tail waving furiously, and gave a happy bark. Parvati laughed and scratched behind Sabra's ears; Lavender smiled when the dog dropped to the ground and rolled around, tail sweeping the floor and eyes happy.

But the door opened and Professor Snape walked in. "The potion should be wearing off within a minute or two; leave after that."

Sabra was ecstatic that there was another person in the room. He _does_ love me! LOVE! He came back! I wasn't bad; love! Love love love! Yay!

She jumped up and stood on her hind feet; planting her paws on Professor Snape's shoulders, she happily washed his face with her tongue, barking enthusiastically between slurps.

Snape stepped back, a hateful sneer on his face, and glared at the dog standing happily before him. "And inform Miss Levi that her potion was far too strong, as is quite evident." He strode out of the room, the door shutting itself firmly behind him.

There was a moment of silence, then Lavender looked down at Sabra. "Oh!" She gasped, startled.

Sitting in the middle of the floor was Sabra, human and looking wistfully at her clothes. "_Tazrili help _?"

"What? Oh! Of course," Parvati said, and quickly tossed the darker skinned girl her underclothes, then her shirt and skirt.

As Sabra got dressed, Lavender said suddenly, "what're you, like a D-cup?"

Parvati looked unbelievingly at her friend. "Lavender," she hissed. "That's so rude!"

"S'okay," Sabra mumbled, getting dressed at quickly as possible.

"Then..." Lavender prompted.

"Triple-D," she muttered, knotting her tie and slipping her robe on; buttoning it up securely, she slipped her shoes on and headed to the door.

Opening it, she stepped out and stopped. Sitting at his desk was _Hamoreh_ Snape, grading papers.

He looked at her and sneered. "Human again Miss Levi?"

She nodded mutely.

"Pity."

"Professor - Sir I...Oh!" Sabra covered her red face with her hands and dashed out of the room, closely followed by Lavender and Parvati, walking quickly and giving nervous smiles. Parvati took the note that Professor Snape proffered and hurried out the door.


	11. If you question magic, does it stop?

Sabra's next class was Herbology; she exited the castle and slowed to a walk. Spotting the greenhouses, she checked her schedule and the giant clock, and found that she was two minutes late already.

Sighing, she was about to run across the lawn, when she remembered the note from Professor Snape. Even if it didn't give unlimited time, there would still be leeway for a slow walk to the greenhouses. Arriving at Greenhouse 3, Sabra found Lavender and Parvati sitting at a long, black, stone table, and a short plump woman tucking a piece of parchment in her robe's pocket.

"Miss Levi?" the woman asked, turning around at the sound of the door shutting behind Sabra.

She nodded, not trusting herself not to bark.

"The other students are fertilizing braid-root, but it seems we've run out of pots; perhaps you'd like to do something else...?"

Sabra saw plenty of the large, black flowerpots underneath the long table, but said nothing and nodded her head again.

The woman led her to the back of the greenhouse where a huge plant lay. It looked like hundreds of vines, as thick as her neck, all tangled together.

"I need this to be untangled so I can give individual vines to Madam Pomfrey so she can brew up a sprain-be-gone potion. Could you do it please?"

Even as she nodded her consent, Sabra sighed mentally. Now she understood. Her new teachers were testing her; they didn't trust Hamoreh Dumbledore's judgment. The nerve! As she mentally reviewed her Herbology lessons from the previous year, the professor spoke again.

"So, Miss Levi, do you know what this is called?"

"The _Intortus labrusca_," Sabra replied.

"Do you want to use magic to do the job?"

"No!" Sabra said, shocked. Was the woman testing her or trying to get her killed?

"Good," the professor said, nodding. "And don't forget to watch out for-"

"The thorns, I know."

"Good," the short woman said again.

"A question..." Sabra began tentatively.

"Yes?"

"May I take my robes off and put of my dragon hide gloves?"

"Mmhm." The woman nodded and turned to go back to the rest of the class. "Oh, and if you need me, just call for Professor Sprout, the plants will let me know." She chuckled and patted a squashed, purple plant and she made her way back to the class.

Sabra stared after the departing woman, then shucked her robe and set to work on the giant plant.

Twenty minutes later found Sabra sitting to rest for a moment, her vest on the floor by her robes and dragon hide gloves discarded for the moment, tucked in her waistband. She took a deep breath and slipped the gloves back on, then stood up. She took a few steps towards the half-untangled mass of vines and saw a few of them moving back to their original tangled state.

"Lo; Tafik im ze! No; stop that! " she muttered, frowning at the unruly plant.

With another step, Sabra tripped over a rock on the floor, falling just as several of the thick vines passed over her head; six-inch thorns whipping through the place in the air her head had just occupied. A low roar sounded from the main mass of vines as Sabra sat up grinning slyly as the vines retreated slowly. After one attack the plant would be too tired to rustle, let alone attack, at least for a few hours. One attack a day was basically all it got.

She picked up the rock she had 'stumbled' over and tossed it into a pile of the like by one of the glass walls.

About ten minutes of work later, Sabra paused to wipe a trickle of sweat from her face and found Professor Sprout smiling at her in a satisfied sort of way. The woman cautiously stepped around the mostly untangled mass of greenery and peered into the last messy bit of vine.

"It's all right Hamorah," she said tiredly. "It already made a grab for me; it's all tired out."

"Oh, I know that," the professor said with a bit of a smile. "I saw you; very nice reaction time."

"Then why are you being so careful?"

Professor Sprout chuckled and fondly patted one of the thick vines. "He's a sweetie; I'd hate to step on him by accident."

"A sweetie...?" Sabra raised an eyebrow at the stout woman.

"The professor laughed again. "Yes. That bite was all for show, Mendula would hurt a fly!"

'Mendula...?' Thinking about the six-inch thorns, and the plant's main diet, Sabra found that unlikely. But Professor Sprout just smiled knowingly and handed Sabra her vest. She buttoned the grey vest up to the top and put her robe on top, careful of the pin at the neck fastening she had brought from home.

Walking back to the front of the green house, Sabra found the rest of the class cleaning up their pots and waiting for the bell to ring.

"You look hot," Neville remarked, coming up behind her.

"What!"

He laughed. "Hot, warm," and then he smirked, "like you shouldn't be wearing that heavy robe."

She sniffed and turned her back to him, walking to the doors as he laughed cheerily.

"Relax," Lavender advised her in one ear, while Parvati giggled in the other. "He's just flirting a bit; flirt back, you look like you could use it."

"I can't," Sabra said stiffly as the bell rang. They walked out of the greenhouse and into the crisp, cool air of fall. She sighed in relief as the stifling heat from within glass walls fell away.

"What d'you mean?" Parvati pressed on. "You mean you don't know how? That's easy, you just--."

"No," Sabra interrupted. "I can't. I'm not allowed to date."

The two girls' jaws dropped. "Not allowed?" Lavender finally said. "What kind of monster parents do you have?"

Sabra laughed. "They're not monsters," she said. "They're religious. Judaism warns against anything with a mind towards dating before marriage; like flirting or exposing too much skin."

"Oh," Parvati said. "That makes sense," and Lavender nodded.

"That's all?" Sabra said, pushing her glasses up where they had slipped down the bridge of her nose. "No Satanism, or third-rate religion?"

Parvati shook her head. "My brother-in-law is Jewish, although he's Reform, and, according to my sister, the perfect..."

"...young Jewish doctor," Sabra finished, and the three girls burst out laughing.

"He's rich too," Lavender put in.

Just then the warning bell rang and they raced for the castle, robes flapping after them.

When Sabra arrived in her Magical Theory class, she found no one whom she recognized, but several Gryffindors whom she knew to be fifth and seventh years. Glancing at her schedule, she saw that it said 'fifth years and above.'

"This must be a hard class," she thought aloud. A Hufflepuff fifth year nodded acquiescently, clutching his bag as if it could save his life.

Sabra sat in a desk in the second row and put her bag down, just as the bell rang and a small door by the blackboard opened. A tall young man strode into the room and shut the door behind him. Sitting on the edge of the front desk, he smiled brightly at the class.

He was thin and slightly bony, with high, prominent cheekbones and a good two inches of wrist sticking out from his blue robe sleeves. His brilliantly blue eyes twinkled as he brushed a stand of shaggy, light brown hair out of his face.

"Good morning," he said, as the hair fell back into his face. "I'm Professor Murdock; welcome to Magical Theory." Spotting some students with quills and parchment, he shook his head. "Put everything away, today is mostly a discussion."

Sabra heard whispers of 'yes' and 'this is gonna be easy,' but judging by the look on Hamoreh Murdock's face, it wasn't. He got of the desk and picked up a fresh piece or chalk. Walking to the board, he wrote:

Where does it all go?

and underlined it.

"Where does it all go? A simple question that is called into play hundreds of times a day in the magical community. And it remains unanswered." He pointed to a tall Slytherin girl lounging in the back row; her feet propped up on another desk and a sheaf of drawings in front of her. "Miss Reynolds."

"Sir," she said casually, putting another line on one of her drawings.

"What does the spell 'evenesco' do?"

"It makes stuff disappear." The look on her face clearly questioned Professor Murdock's intelligence.

"Correct," he said, then asked: "where does it go?"

"What?"

"The thing you made disappear, where did it disappear to?"

The girl thought for a moment, then took her feet of the desk in front of her and put the drawings under her seat. She slowly smiled. "I don't know, sir."

"Mr. Capriotti," Professor Murdock said, his gaze falling to a stocky Slytherin boy sitting next to 'Miss Reynolds.' He was in the process of putting away a sort of comic book, prompted by an elbow in the ribs by the girl. They both seemed to be seventh years.

"Sir?"

"When an object is conjured, where does the mass come from?"

"I don't know," the boy replied, a similar smile appearing on his face.

"Mr. Brantner-Magee?" A tall Ravenclaw boy with brown hair and a stretched out look was frantically waving his hand in the air, a look of impatience on his face.

"Sir, is there some place, maybe another dimension, where's there's just a big lump of matter, to which all banished matter goes, and all conjured things come from?"

"Don't you think more things are conjured then banished?" Professor Murdock countered. "The supply would be exhausted in just a few years, and things have been conjured for long before that."

"It's magic," Sabra said, not waiting to be called on.

The professor grinned at her. "How can you be sure?"

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Isn't magic what we're here to learn?"

"Emc²?" the tall boy said excitedly, and another girl, a Ravenclaw, caught on.

"Yeah," she said. "Matter cannot be created or destroyed; only transferred from energy."

"And as far as I can tell," the Slytherin girl said. "There hasn't been as big a loss of energy as there would be from all that matter being created over the years. We'd have run out by now of all energy altogether!"

"How about this," Professor Murdock said, and took his wand out of his sleeve. With a shower of sparks, he conjured a fist-sized rubber ball and tossed it to Sabra. She smiled and tossed it back to him. "Where did the energy to conjure this come from?"

"The wand?" a Hufflepuff boy asked.

"Me," the professor answered. "My wand just channels it. But humans use chemical energy to do work; that is, the food we eat is transformed into the energy we use."

"So?" The Slytherin boy raised his eyebrows. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Magical folk do all of the work muggles do, as well as magic. And magic uses up more energy then doing it by hand does. So why aren't witches and wizards chronically tired and hungry? And why don't we have to eat more then muggles? If the laws of science applied to us, then we'd never stop eating, and our metabolisms would be impossibly fast."

"Maybe," the Ravenclaw boy said, "we're talking the energy from far out in the universe, and magical people are simply people with the ability to use that energy."

"Or," Sabra added, "We might be the only ones able to draw on an entirely separate type of energy."

"And the muggles who have ESP, or are telekinetic, are just people who have a weaker version of that power." The Slytherin girl grinned as she got into the interesting conversation.

"More squibs are in pureblood families because of too much in-breeding. Take a wizard or witch with an especially strong ability and breed them with a telekinetic muggle, and their child will be guaranteed magic!" Talk was flying around the room as various people began to comprehend the 'bigger idea' and Professor Murdock laughed and held up his hands in mock surrender.

"I must say," he smiled brightly at the class. "You, in the course of," he checked the sun through the window "half an hour, have picked apart an idea that's been frustrating people for over two hundred years. Only recently has this idea been suggested and you've done it in one class! Well done!" He wrote 'Energy' in big letters on the board, circled it, then sat of the edge of his desk again. "This lesson was supposed to last much longer, but you've figured it out too quickly. Take the rest of the period off." He wiped his chalky hands on the sides of his robe, leaving white smears on the blue material. "Just stay in the classroom."

Sabra went to the back of the class where the two seventh year Slytherins sat, and dropped into a seat in front of them. She smiled sweetly and looked in interest at the drawing the girl was talking out. "That's pretty nice," she said admiringly. "And wasn't that a fun talk. Hello, I'm Sabra."

"Look," the boy drawled. "The Gryffindork has escaped its cage."

"I'm Caitlin, and this is Romeo," the girl said, throwing her long, purple streaked hair over her shoulder. "You know us now, so leave."

"Mah ze? lama? Mah asiti? what's that? Why? What did I do? "

"I don't know about you, but I don't know what it's saying," the boy, Romeo said. "You think it's a Gryffindor secret code?"

"If it is, all it means is 'I'm a loyal, brave puppy.'" Caitlin replied.

"Hey!" Romeo said, his grin widening. "Aren't you the one who turned into a dog in Snape's class?"

"I hear she licked him."

Sabra bit her lip and quickly got up to go back to her seat. As she took her book out she could hear snickers of laughter behind her.

Professor Murdock appeared behind them and grabbed an ear from each of them. They winced as he frowned down at them. "Five points from Slytherin for unkind gossip, and I'd like an essay from each of you on today's discussion, due Friday. Seven inches please."

Sabra grinned slightly as she opened her book to the crimson marker. Justice had been served.

A/N

Sorry the chapter's so short, and I know that it's been ages. Oy. I've been so grounded, so remember all: Do your homework! I'm not...

Review!

On another note: Missy! Your s/n isn't working, nor your E-mail. I beta-ed your fic, but it said that it didn't send, and I tried to E-mail you, and it said that your address is invalid... WTF. So review and tell me if you have another one... I'm not coming this summer.

Sorry all to use for personal reasons...

Flames will be used to charbroil Mendula...


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